#❛ tie my right hand to the ride. ❜ ( riverdale. )

[ibriida]

@iconicandbeyondreproach was lovely and liked this for a small starter. Status: Accepting !

“You look like you could use a milkshake,” Ava says, placing one on the table before the blonde can even respond, smiling softly. “Don’t get too excited about my kindness, pouty customers aren’t good for business.”

[ms-maj]

Teenage Wasteland

With so, so, so, so many thanks to @theheavycrown. For this header, for betaing, for existing. The. Best. Also, this really got away from me so it’s a skosh on the long side.

Day five: A song that needs to be played loud- Baba O’Riley-The Who

The exodus is here

The happy ones are near

Let's get together, before we get much older

Teenage wasteland

It's only teenage wasteland

Baba O’Riley- The Who

Jughead Jones watches as the sun rises over the Sunnyside Trailer park. It’s obnoxiously loud for six am, but considering what the day is to hold, he can hardly blame its inhabitants for their excitement. The smoke from his cigarette rises above his head and sticks, haloing him in the early morning haze. It looks like it’s going to be another miserably humid day, the lack of clouds in the morning sky seems to be an unfortunate indication that the heat is going to be unbearable as well. He sighs heavily, snuffing his cigarette butt out on the deck before flicking it into the empty coffee can. Pulling his knees to his chest, he folds his arms around his legs and watches the hubbub of activity flit through the park.

Today is “The Roll”, Riverdale’s newly minted bike rally; the town council and mayor’s attempt at unifying the North and South Sides. Supposedly people were coming from all over to ride in today’s opening parade, some thousand bikes he thought he’d overheard.  He knew, without a doubt, that the majority of Riverdale proper was, at the very least displeased by the joint venture. However, the prominence of biker culture in the Southside made even the toughest of Serpents giddy at the thought of rolling though Riverdale Square, invited, and embraced by like-minded people. Jughead had heard his father, FP, and his pseudo-uncles Mack and Terry practically squealing when they announced that the “Roll on Riverdale” was a go this year, and now they were all out, polishing their bikes in preparation for the parade.

There’s a part of Jughead that’s excited too. His bike is finally operational. The years of blood, sweat and copious amounts of hard-earned cash saw his grandfather’s 1950 Vincent Black Lightning roar to life. He’s man enough, in the confines of his own mind, to admit that he may have cried when he’d put the final cap on his fully restored beauty and the engine purred to life under his touch. He’s damn proud of his bike, and he is damn proud to ride her today. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he hears laughter bubble up across the park, men hooting and hollering as their wives bring out trays of breakfast foods. Jughead likens it to a pre-war feast. The majority of the Serpents, and their of age children, will be riding in the parade—right into the very heart of the community that condemns them.

Before he gets too lost in the social mores that threaten to loop around his head, the front door swings open to reveal his sister, JB, already dressed for the ride.

“Juuuuggg, come on! We’ve only got four hours before this thing starts!”

“Only four?” His head shakes as he laughs, patting the space next to him for her to come and sit. “Have you ever seen it like this, Jelly?”

Her eyes narrow at him and he can’t help the smirk that forms. “Nope. Well, it’s kind of like Christmas, minus the cold.”

“It’s better than Christmas,” Jughead mumbles under his breath. He knows the circumstances that most of the families endure to give their children any semblance of Christmas, and this, well it carries none of that weight or shame. This is jubilation. Riverdale is finally putting itself in a position to see all that comes out of the Southside; even if they only ever still see it as bad, Jughead hopes that maybe if all things go really well than their communities can actually come together. Rather than just seeing blight and criminals, maybe the North can recognize the humanity that lies on the other side of the tracks. 

“I’m going to record it all! Ms. Hammill gave me her GoPro; I’m gonna tape it to my helmet so I can film everything as we’re riding.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to listen to me and wear a helmet?”

“You told me I had to or I couldn’t ride with you!”

He chuckles. “That is absolutely right, Jellybean. You’re not going anywhere near a bike, ever, without a helmet. Capiche?”

“Yeah, sure, until I’m seventeen and way too cool like you. I don’t see why dad’s not on your ass about it.”

“I always wear my helmet, kid. Except for today. Considering we can’t go over twenty on the route,” he picks his head up and looks in the direction of the now fully risen sun. “Besides, it’s going to be nine-hundred degrees today. My leather jacket plus that ridiculous helmet Uncle Mack gave me is a recipe for heatstroke, which I would much rather not suffer at all, thanks. So, helmetless, at the advice of our father and other seasoned riders, but only for today.” He wags his finger in her face emphatically.

Jughead watches his sister roll her eyes before playfully punching him in the shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some food from Aunt Bea, you want?”

Before the sarcastic response can form on his tongue she’s up, muttering,  “Of course you want food, what a silly question, JB…” before dashing off across the yards.

He sighs again. The humidity is definitely growing, and while it hangs heavy it doesn’t necessarily feel oppressive. And for some reason, that’s as strange an omen as Jughead Jones can imagine. He stands from the deck, cracks his neck, and walks back through the door. 

Something will definitely change in Riverdale today. If you would have asked Jughead at that moment, or any of the ones that preceded it, if he thought he’d come out of today the most changed he’d have laughed in your face. The fates, however, seem to have something else in store for him.

(Finish under the cut or check it out on AO3)

Jughead is unnerved. Something about the too-bright sun juxtaposed on a cloudless, cerulean sky. Or that the breeze always seems to come exactly when he is feeling just a tad uncomfortable. There are no perfect days, not on the Southside, not anywhere. And yet this day seems picturesque. He asked his dad to take Jellybean to the parade route, told him he’d meet them there and rode off astride his Lightning toward the open road. 

Only the road isn’t open. Bikes litter every establishment's parking lot and clog the streets, forcing Jughead out toward the lesser-traveled backroads that his Vincent doesn’t always handle well on.

But there are no nerves. Just the power of the bike and the confidence in his ministrations, and his path stays true. He shakes his head quickly, trying to disseminate what exactly is making him feel so…

In reality, he knows exactly what’s eating away at him. Instead of letting it occupy his mind he puts his foot on the gas, letting the wind whip through his hair, beanie tucked securely in his breast pocket. The roads amble further and further from the Southside, trees coming to line the roadside rather than telephone poles and streetlights. As he makes his way toward Sweetwater River, the grayscale of the dour life he’s lived is traded for the verdant, lush green that he has never really appreciated before now.

The nearer he gets to the rally point the more his anxiety rises. It’s all just too strange, too surreal, with the streets outside of the ever-peppy and pristine Riverdale convoluted with motorcycles of all makes and models. Still, he manages to spot FP and Gladys right away. A large huff of air heaves past his lips as he sidles up next to his father. There’s still an hour or so before the parade should technically start, for which he’s extremely grateful, as he wrestles to get his mind under control. He watches Jellybean running around trying to get as much of it on film before they start; he envies her enthusiasm. 

Riverdale has never cared for them, for him. They never worried about the schools’ funding on the Southside, or whether the roads warranted repair (which they all did), or if selling the drive-in to the highest bidder would be the nail in the coffin. And clearly it wasn’t to his neighbors, but to Jughead Jones it was everything. They’d severed the last tie to his childhood, stolen from him the very notion of hope and with that, he’d written them out of his narrative.

Yet, here he sits. His father and mother to his left, Mack and Terry behind them, Serpent emblems littering the stretch. Jughead straddles his bike somewhere in the middle of the pack, hundreds of bikes stretched out before and behind him. Though he feels like they’ve been there for hours already, the bikes kept ambling in, filling the road that runs parallel to the river. The parade is meant to follow Sweetwater’s meandering path before veering off onto the bunting-lined streets that lead into the very heart of Riverdale. 

 “You nervous, kid?” His father’s voice carries over the bikes as Jughead sweeps his eyes back from the vista before him.

“Should I be? It’s not like I’ve never ridden before.”

FP huffs a laugh and shakes his head slowly. “It’s just a big step for us.”

“What? Rolling into Riverdale?” Jughead scoffs.

His father’s lip turns up slightly, settling into a softer smile than Jughead expects. “I know it’s not that big a deal to you, but to us old-timers…being invited—hell, celebrated, by this town—well, it’s a day I never thought I’d see.” Jughead nods. He knows the divide between the two halves of the town threatens to swallow them whole. And not just in some off-hand ‘grand-scheme-of-things’ way, but in the very literal his family was on a precipice kind of way, and he can’t help the resentment that toils inside him.

His father has been home less and less. Jobs varying in nature and pay-scale take priority over actually spending time with his family. Legitimate work on the Southside is almost non-existent, most of the gainful employment going to the younger generations in a never-ending battle against the wheel that pins them down.

On the Southside, and in Riverdale alike, you are a pawn. Be it above-board or not, your employ depends on one of two men and whatever stratagem they decide to launch against the other that week. The Northsiders don’t see it like that, of course. It’s business.  Jughead grew up knowing that on the Southside they’ve always been seen as less…less clean; less important; less human. He’s managed to avoid Riverdale proper, lest he get sucked into its idealized Americana suburban bullshit, and tries to thrive in its periphery. The Serpent logo emblazoned on his back was a not-so-subtle constant reminder of where he’s supposed to belong, the other was the 998cc V-twin engine between his thighs.

His bike, the physical embodiment of his work, has garnered more attention than he was ready for. Jughead’s enough of an enthusiast to understand there’d be interest in his bike, but he’s fended off more than a few ludicrous offers and the rally hasn’t even officially started. There were few bikes as old as his, but none that could compare to the detail he’d refurbished his with. 

Aside from his name, which he is loathe to admit, it’s the only tangible bit of the legacy left to him by his grandfather. Forsythe the First was one of the founding members of a Motorcycle Club that ended up being absorbed by the Serpents. It’s one of the reasons he’s always felt so obligated to stay with them, even if he’s always had so much more that he wants to do with his life.

“Jug! Jug!” His eyes flick to his breathless sister who is climbing onto the back of his bike before he can register the garbled words coming from her mouth. But with the revving of engines and plumes of exhaust kicking up in front of him, he knows. It’s time.

FP waggles his brows excitedly as he takes off, Gladys whooping behind him as her bike roars to life. Jellybean giggles in his ear, her grip tightening on his waist as they begin their ride toward town.

The streets are lined with adulating townsfolk, waving their flags and cheering as the bikes descend on them. Families, Jughead notes, are out in droves, all smiles and welcome posturing. He fights the urge to roll his eyes on more than one occasion at the suburbanites’ inability to cope with the noise of the parade. He can’t help if his engine revs when he recognizes the discomforted looks of the parade-goers. His father, still at his side, gives him a hard look when he catches on, but Jughead notices the twinkle in his eye and the way his mouth curls into a smirk. Jughead can feel his doing the same as they get closer to Riverdale.

“Uh oh,” he hears Jelly huff as he slows down. The parade bottlenecks just short of Picken’s Park. 

They’re so close. Ride through the square, exalt, and go home. Jughead’s feet hit the ground as they come to a stop, his head lolling back for a second before he finds focus.

On his left he sees a flash, something glinting in the sun catches his eye. A golden halo hidden behind the long lens of an older model Canon. The camera dips, revealing the most luminescent eyes he’s ever seen. He can feel his breath hitch.

When their eyes meet he feels it at his very core. She looks ethereal, backlit by the mid-day sun, breeze blowing the ends of her ponytail away from her lithe frame as the camera held between her slender fingers moves further down her form. His jaw drops as he watches her lower lip slide between her teeth.

“Jug, let’s go!” He snaps forward as Jellybean hits his shoulder, urging him back into the crowd. Shaken from his reverie, he dares another glance back toward the blonde beauty but he’s lost her in the crowd. Huffing disappointedly, he lets go of the throttle and catches up with his dad and neighbors, a true smile forms on his face for the first time that day.

Suddenly, Jughead feels far more interested to see what else Riverdale has in store for him.

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

The sun roasts Pickens Park, just as Jughead predicted it would, but it surprises him that he doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. That doesn’t mean it’s in every way good, but, as he moseys through the vendor tents, filling himself with various fried delights, he can’t help but be on the lookout for that flash of blonde hair again. He thinks maybe he’d seen the same golden hue by one of the tents but when he got closer, it was gone, swallowed into an unlikely sea of seersucker and leather.

The crowd is denser than he expected. H hadn’t anticipated the Northsiders being interested in wandering too far into the depths of the bike fest; again, he’s proven wrong. The throngs of onlookers that lined the parade route have made their way to Picken’s Park. Crisply dressed families holding perfectly manicured hands descend from suburbia as Southsiders flow in with the rank and file to the center of Riverdale.

On top of everything else, everyone seems to be getting along. It’s pleasantly surprising. 

After parking his bike with the other Serpents, he backs out of watching the stunt bikes with Joaquin and Sweet Pea, opting to chase Jellybean around as she continues to capture the day’s events for posterity. His father had been talking to an older gentleman when he walked away, something about restorations, though it could have very well been restitution.

Today, he doesn’t have the heart for it. He watches Jellybean weave through the crowd, running straight for her friends, effectively forgetting he is even there.

Sighing, Jughead takes the slightly crushed pack of Marlboro’s from his breast pocket, along with his beanie, holding them for a long moment before stuffing a cigarette in his mouth and the beanie on his head before skulking off. He catches sight of few more junior serpents, but manages to stay in their periphery and melt back into the masses.

It’s not that he doesn’t like them. They’ve all grown up together and were currently in high school, but that’s pretty much where the similarities ended. While the Northside kids were presumably spoon-fed limitless ambition and encouragement from infancy, Southside kids didn’t always fare so well. It wasn’t that parents on the Southside loved their kids less, or had less grandiose aspirations for them, it’s just that sometimes things like food and heat outweighed singing lessons or money for the book fair. 

And that’s where the Serpents came in. Short on rent? Give us a hand with this thing and we’ll help you out, stay if you’re afraid it’ll happen again. They all stayed; they never left. Then the cycle would start all over. Their kids need jobs to help the family get by or ward off disciplinary action from some business owner that the bored, latch-key kids may, or may not have egged. 

By fourteen, most Southside kids were employed by legitimate Serpent owned businesses before they decided whether or not they wanted to transition into the gang as a fully-fledged member. 

That’s the limbo Jughead Jones finds himself in. At seventeen, he’s already been too long a man. He wants the camaraderie of the Serpents, the brotherhood of men who uplift one another and hold themselves to a higher standard, not the backsliding, hoodlumesque gang-banging he saw so prevalent at school the previous year. His entire existence hinged on this dichotomy: a quasi-normal home life, much more stable and happy than he’d had for most of his formative years and the knowledge that when his father wasn’t home, he was actually leading a gang through their less than savory endeavors. 

Eighteen means making a decision. Does he stay with the gang? The one who afforded him the opportunity, the skills, the means to repair his bike. The gang who insured food was on the table when their dad was in the skids. The gang who still made sure his dad didn’t fall off the wagon, or if he did, picked him up and set him back on his feet.

Or does he follow HIS dreams? Go to college, or hell, just get out of Riverdale. (Preferably without attachment to a regiment.)  He’s never wanted to stay. He dreams of winding coastlines and leatherbound journals; of leaves on trees he’s never seen in person and stars in skies that look like his but are worlds away.

He’s felt this weight (guilt, shame, fear, hope) building for longer now than he’d like to admit. He’s never had any intention of staying, no plan to fall deeper into a pit he can’t get out of. 

Jughead doesn’t realize that he’s walked the entirety of Picken’s Park already until he’s faced, again, with those he’d been trying to avoid.

“Jones!” As much as he’d rather turn back into the crowd, he’s been spotted. With a grimace, he makes his way over to where they, who were once his friends, are sitting. 

“Toni. Fangs. Harbingers of Doom,” he greets dourly. Fangs rolls his eyes as Toni’s narrow on him, their lackeys looking ready to say something more before he holds up a halting hand. 

“Jugs,” comes Toni’s clipped voice. “Wasn’t sure you’d be riding with the pack today, considering you don’t actually want to be one of us.”

Jughead stretches his neck slowly before he speaks, rubbing a wary hand across the back. “No, Toni, I don’t want to be one of you.”

“C’mon, Jug,” Fangs tries. He would give him that, Fangs always tried. “We all used to be so close, but with Joaquin going to school in Ohio in a few weeks, and you and Pea deciding you’re too good for us…”

“No. Pea decided, for himself, that he wasn’t cut out for this life. I am, as of yet, undecided.”

Scoffing, Toni flings long pink hair over her shoulder before fixing an appraising eye on Jughead. “Undecided? My ass you’re undecided, Jonesy. You made your choice loud and clear last year when you decided to skip the after prom festivities…”

“Is that what this is about?” Jughead nearly chokes on his laugh. “Sorry Tones, you just don’t do it for me, and I know I lack certain anatomical features to do it for you. So, sorry not sorry if I ruined whatever ‘well-laid’ plans you two had in the works.”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself, Jones. We only wanted you to ride with us for your clout; we more than make up for our size and age with our ability to get shit done.”

Toni and Fangs smile at their new protege, Trula, while Jughead is the one whose eyes roll this time. “Oh. Okay. That’s why you’re still blowing me up after I turned you down, more than once. You too, Tone, it’s kind of sad,” he throws a smirk their way and turns back towards the still gathering crowd.  Pausing, before they have a second to gather their wits, he twists back with a slick smile on his face. “And for the record, no one thinks you ‘get shit done’, you’re just effective fodder that keeps coming back for more. Enjoy your day kids, who knows: the next time you’re thrown to the wolves may be your last. Only cats have nine lives, not snakes.”

It’s not like walking away from friends he’s had since diapers is his idea of a good time. He just knows his commitment to the Serpents will never run as deep as that of the small group who are undoubtedly boring holes into the back of his jacket. Which, he starts to realize, may not be as hard to give up than he once thought.

It’s strange. Only a few hours have passed since he warily started this trek into Riverdale, no expectations for the day aside from possible heat stroke and a stomach ache. Instead, he’s had too much time to think in between the stark juxtaposition of doctors and their wives wearing brand-new, bedazzled Harley Davidson gear and the worn leathers of the Southside riders. 

But no one is fighting. There’s laughter that rings over the peals of the bikes; a Skid Row cover band is playing in the gazebo and the entire crowd, from true-blue biker to the toddling twins dancing in the back, is into it. It’s not Northside versus Southside; it’s not rich versus poor; it’s simply people with shared interests having a good time.

If he really thinks about it, that’s all he wants. He doesn’t want Damocles’ sword hanging above his head with words like “birthright” and “king”; he wants to make his own name for himself instead of being a literal continuation of his father. He wants a chance to enjoy things in life without conditions.

Fuck it, he mutters to no one and with intent, sets off to find the owner of the elusive, blonde ponytail.

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

It is much too hot. After walking around for close to four hours, Jughead decides that today might not be his day after all. He’s seen exactly one blonde ponytail, and it was not attached to the same girl he’d seen on the ride in. 

Defeated, he pulls the beanie from his head and runs long fingers through his dark chestnut hair, breaking up the curls that cling to his sweaty brow. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks morosely. He’d said one day. He’d come for one day, and now, because he and some girl shared a moment—through the lens of her camera no less—he was planning on returning in the morning.

A fresh Marlboro between his fingers and beanie placed firmly back on his head, he turns toward his bike and home.

“Hey!” He hears a voice shouting. “Yo! Dude!”

Jughead turns and finds himself face to face with a redhead in a Bulldogs varsity jacket.

“Can I help you?” Jughead asks, his voiced colored with a hint of annoyance as he slowly takes a drag off his cigarette.

“Maybe,” the jock replies looking him up and down. “Can you tell me who rides a...uh…” he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, “...a 1950 Victor that looks like it’s been restored by God’s own hand?”

Jughead tries, and fails, to bite back a smirk. “I could.”

“Listen man, I’m asking for a friend. They’re writing an article about the best bikes and I got tasked with finding this one. Can you help me or not?”

“Your friend wants to write an article about my bike?” Jughead can’t help the incredulity that seeps into his question.

“Your bike?! Sweet! Listen...” the ginger pulls his phone out. “Shit, it’s too late now. Can you stop back in the morning, around nine?  Pop’s Mobile Shake Shack. Tell ‘em Archie sent you,” the redhead was already calling back over his shoulder as he ran through the crowd. 

Weird.

Weirder still...he plans on being there. If nothing else, well, how can anyone argue with breakfast milkshakes? 

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

It’s five minutes after nine. The sun, though not yet sweltering, still feels hot for it being this early. He’s surprised by how many people are already up and roaming the grounds, enjoying the out of town food trucks as he is. 

He’s currently in the middle of a delightful cajun style breakfast burrito complemented by one of Pop’s coffee milkshakes. Jughead’s always been the type to eat his feelings (and his metabolism seems to allow him to do so, so why kick a gift horse in the mouth. Do what you love and all that) and that’s pretty much all he’s done since meeting the red-haired boy. One text was enough to bring that slight high he was feeling right back down to impending doom. Apparently, his run-in with Toni and Fangs had made it back to the senior members. And they were not happy. 

According to them, Jughead’s hemming and hawing hadn’t gone unnoticed by the upper echelon, but—as FPs son—he was given a wider berth in regards to how he handled this decision. When you’re the Serpent heir, it’s expected that you’ll not only join but assert yourself leader ipso facto. The idea that he was even considering walking away entirely rubbed a lot of them the wrong way. 

“Birthrights are birthrights for a reason, boy. You were made for this; only this,” is what one pseudo uncle told him only an hour ago. A man who has known him the entirety of his life. A lifer himself with no higher aspirations, no desires greater than that of the gang. He thinks that all Jughead is good for in life is leading the pursuits of these people, this gang he still hasn’t truly taken an active role in. He’s an enforcer, a menacing intimidation, on occasion he’s procured a package or two. Having had the luxury of time after the encounter with his father he realized his largest foray into the illegal was working with car parts of questionable origin. But. He didn’t actually think of that whilst being berated and belittled.

While it was increasingly on his mind, he plans on walking that ever-shortening tightrope for as long as he possibly can. It isn’t that he hates the prospect of staying in the Serpents, he could be a lifer too if he thought anything would ever change. But the fact that the gang life, and life on the Southside, in general, seems to stagnate after eighteen, well, that’s just not him.

Jughead has always seen himself as capable of something more, at least he wants to be. He doesn’t want his future self, or his future spouse, to have to tell their children—with a fake, painted smile— that there aren’t going to be any birthday parties this year, or that they have to be out of their home in thirty days. 

Groaning to himself, Jughead indulges in another deep drag of his milkshake. The coffee is deep and rich on his tongue before his brain registers the cold. The shake hits the ground as his hands came up to massage his temples, a fool's attempt at alleviating his brain freeze.

“Hey Pop,” he hears, eyes pinched tight as the last of the pain subsides. “Did Archie happen to send anyone by?”

Jughead’s eyes shoot up, trying to focus on the figure moving toward him. She’s jogging, mere feet away, awash in the golden glow of morning, unmistakable honey-hued ponytail bouncing behind her. He takes in her features, clearly, for the first time. She’s in cut-off overalls that seem to be tailored just for her, coupled with what—gods help him—looks like a crop top, but the bandana tied off in the front draws his gaze to her face. Her eyes remind him of the Earth, blues and greens and golds melting together as if an endlessly deep pool; he could drown in them and die happily. “It’s you,” his voice is a hoarse whisper he barely recognizes as his own. 

She stops, releasing her lower lip from between her teeth, a soft smile blooming on her face instead. “I can’t believe Archie found you! I’m Betty.” Her hand extends forward and hovers in the air before him for just a second before he catches it with his. 

“Jughead Jones,” he knows he’s grinning idiotically but he can’t find it in himself to care. He instantly misses the warmth of her hand as it falls from his grasp. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Betty’s head shakes, nose crinkling as she questions, “What’s me?”

“The writer. Right? That Archie guy said something about an article…” 

She nods as a soundless laugh pushes past her lips. “Yes—the article—that’s why I wanted to find you!” Her head falls to the side, ponytail brushing across the strap of her overalls, “That’s a pretty spectacular bike you’ve got there, Jughead.”

He really likes hearing his name come out of her mouth. “I do recall hearing something to the effect of ‘restored by God's own hand’. I liked that.”

Betty groans. “He actually said those words?” 

“Actually pulled out a piece of paper and read it. That’s some dedication to the cause. He your boyfriend?” Jughead bends down to pick up the milkshake he’s knocked over and tosses it in the garbage before striding toward her with as much casual affectation as he can muster.

“Oh, no. Archie’s...he’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend...who’s a boy, but not, like...” 

Jughead cannot, nor does he really want to, fight the smile that takes over his face. “Good to know.”

He isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light that causes her skin to deepen to that shade of pink, or if it was his words, but he makes it his mission to see if he can get her skin that shade without the aid of natural sunlight.

“So…” Betty effectively interrupts his thoughts from slipping into the lascivious, causing his cheeks to burn in the slightest. “I know this is presumptuous, but I was really hoping I’d be able to interview you for the Riverdale Register. I’d really like to get some stationary shots of your bike as well as ask you a few hundred questions.” 

“That is beyond presumptuous,” he jokingly intones. There’s a sharp inhale as his abused, maroon Doc Martens stop just shy of her powder blue Keds. Jughead cocks his head as he pretends to mull over whether or not he’ll be a part of her story. Of course he will. But watching her nervously chew her bottom lip and clasp her hands in front of her in a silent plea to win him over, well, he thinks he could get used to being at the mercy of that particular gaze. 

“Pleaaase?” She all but squeaks out and he’s absolute putty. 

He shifts closer, his boot lightly scuffing against the toe of her pristine sneakers. 

“Fine, but don’t think for a second I’m doing this for free. Tit for tat, Betty,” his voice drawls in a husky timbre. He knows it’s risky, going this hard this early but he’s utterly bewitched. She, the physical embodiment of all his fantasies, is literally standing before him. As much as he knows he’ll do anything she asks of him, she doesn’t just yet. But by the way her eyes darken as she appraises him, he’s not too worried about how long that will take to find out. “I'm going to need another one of those milkshakes.”

“Is that all? You want a milkshake?” she coos demurely. 

Jughead nudges her shoe again. “I didn’t say that was all I wanted. There are funnel cakes and corn dogs and candy apples; to quote Templeton: it is a veritable smorgasbord.” 

Her laughter, and proximity, sends a shiver up his spine. “I’m kind of disappointed you didn’t sing that. You have earned yourself brownie points for casually throwing some ‘Charlotte’s Web’ into the conversation though.”

He pulls a hand up to his chin and crosses the other over his chest as if considering, “I suppose brownies are acceptable, too.” The way her laughter seems to float around him, blocking the noise of the growing crowd and shrouding him in warmth, is the very last thing he expected when he begrudgingly attended the Roll on Riverdale.

In his mind, the sweltering days of summer play out before him: she’s laughing at his corny jokes and pressing up against him as they ride his bike right out of Riverdale. This is very decidedly not him. He doesn’t crush. He’s not what you would call a ladies man by any stretch of the imagination, and he’s definitely not into fuck around games, but he’s been around a time or two. And it’s never been like this. Nothing has. This instantaneous draw; the inability to turn away coupled with a desperate desire to know how she tastes.  

“But maybe,” he pauses, taking everything in, how she smells (impossibly soft in the midst of hundreds of bikes), the way her tongue darts out to wet already glossed lips. “Maybe I’d like to get to know the girl who knew the make and model of my bike after seeing it for all of a minute. Especially since she wasn’t really even looking at it.” 

“Oh,” she all but breathes out. This time the color that tints Betty’s cheeks was undoubtedly his doing. Obviously flustered, she swallows, tightens her ponytail, and tries again. “If you have time today, we can get this out of the way and you can get back to…”

“I’m all yours, Betty.”

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

“So, what’s this article for?”

She picks at the soft pretzel she’s been holding for the duration of their walk, bringing the small bite to her mouth before carefully saying. “The Register.”

“The what now?” Jughead stops, adjusts the beanie on his head and runs an exaggerated hand down his face. “Look, Betty…Cooper! Fuck! You’re a Cooper!? How did I miss that?” (it might have had something to do with the fact that she had a crop top on under her overalls and his neanderthal brain latched onto that for a second longer than was healthy), “...maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

She looks almost crestfallen before her eyes drop. “I didn’t say I was a Cooper. For this very reason. I know what my parents are like, and what they write, but I’m not! I’d be writing this for the Blue and Gold if school were in session. I’ll probably re-run it in that if it’s any consolation. The Register isn’t the ideal choice for me either, but it’s a hell of a lot more exposure than the highschool newspaper.” 

He knows what that’s like. Trying to reach an ever-shrinking audience through a nearly dead medium, even if the Southside High’s Red and Black did have a pretty good online presence. Thanks to Fangs. It’s the first time he’s thought of the paper this summer, too preoccupied with his ending adolescence and what he always assumed would be his imminent interment with the Serpents. Now both of those things are up in the air. He’s no closer to knowing what he wants to do than yesterday. And somehow, the daughter of the two people who seem to revile the Southside most is standing in front of him with a level of enthusiasm he reserves for only the most ostentatious buffets. She sought him out, knowing what the symbol on his back meant, and thought that his bike was worth it.

“If you don’t want to do the interview, that’s fine. I won’t push you. But I did buy you another milkshake, and I think that entitles me to at least a few more pictures of the Black Lightning.”

His head snaps back up. There’s this pull to her he’s not sure he can, or wants to, fight. Familial allegiance be damned. For the first time in his life, Jughead’s putting himself before the pack and going after exactly what he wants. She’s smart, gorgeous, funny in a way that seems effortless and natural, and just happens to come wrapped up prettily in a blue bandana. “Color me perpetually impressed, Cooper. Alright, let’s go get your pictures. But we’re not staying here for the interview, I’ve had more than enough forced human interaction for one day.”

“I thought you wanted to eat your way through the interview?” He can tell she’s fighting a smile when she stops to throw what’s left of the massacred pretzel in the trash. She looks back a him, painfully pastel and almost shy, but she’s leaning toward him with the most wicked glint in her eyes and he’s done. 

“Oh, that hasn’t changed. Just the venue...and maybe the menu.” He winks as he steps away, setting off again for his bike. He hears her exhale sharply before jogging to catch up to him.

They talk shop for the rest of the walk. In the short time he’s known her, he’s become sure of two things: first, she knows what she’s talking about. Her knowledge of combustion engines in damn near encyclopedic, be it classic bikes or classic cars, she’s a greasemonkey through and through. That in itself would have been enough to catch his attention. But the second, and most obvious thing is that she is arguably the prettiest human he’s ever laid eyes on.  

Jughead isn’t sure what’s gotten into him. Watching her photograph his bike becomes a silent meditation on masochism, it’s the most exquisite torture he could have ever hoped to experience. She’s thorough, dangerously so, taking pictures from every angle to ensure that all of his meticulous detail is properly represented. 

That’s what she says anyway. He’s sure it has something to do with him meeting an early end. Each photo ensures another inch of skin exposed, the bottoms of her overalls having ridden up so much that the peachy flesh taunts and teases him with just how delectable it looks. He wonders how one person can be so unassumingly sexy and adorable at once. 

It’s just then that she chooses to look at him, left arm reaching across his bike for the handlebar. Slowly, as if her goal in life is to make him combust, she straddles the machine and rocks herself into a seemingly more comfortable position. 

The sun is fully behind her, bursting and glowing as the camera sits at her ample chest which his eyes can’t seem to look away from. She is, beyond words. Beckoning him with a single finger he—a complete lost cause— moves with purposeful strides to stand before her. He leans in close covering the hand closest to him with his own. They both watch as their fingers twine together around the grip, the feel of her skin beneath his own is electric. “Can I take you somewhere?” his voice sounds deeper to his own ears. He’s nervous, but how can one not be when their veritable dream girl has literally got 182 horsepower between her thighs.

She smiles, the tops of her lips straining toward her ears, and he thinks he could live off the buoyancy that look evokes for the rest of his days. “Anywhere.”

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

The ride to the quarry wasn’t nearly long enough. He couldn’t get enough of the way Betty had wrapped her arms around his body, teasing fingers over his stomach and clinging tightly to his chest. Or maybe it was too long. Either way, his fingers itch to touch her as he slows the bike to a stop. She dismounts before he gets the chance, taking a few steps out of his reach to look at their surroundings. He leans against the bike watching her take it all in. It’s usually quiet, but especially so in mid-morning, when the only sounds that break through the forest canopy are the ones that come from within: bird calls, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, and, somewhere off in the distance, the river rapids crashing on the bluffs below their feet. 

But all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears. 

Betty looks as caught up in the magic of the quarry as he feels. The smile on her face is soft and delicate as she weaves through the trees and makes her way to the cliff’s edge. Slowly, she turns back to face him, that damn bottom lip worrying between her teeth. 

He pushes off the bike and strides toward her. The sun's rays look like spotlights as they filter through the treetops, illuminating his path to her. (As if after seeing her he’ll ever be able to walk any other way than but to her.)

“I gotta give it to you, Jones, this is one hell of a view. Certainly sets a tone. Of course, if you brought me here to try and scare me into convincing my parents to stop trashing the Serpents you should know that one, they don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to anyone for that matter, but least of all me. And two,” she steps into his space, gingerly fingering the leather lapels of his jacket. “I don’t scare easy.”

He suppresses the urge to growl; it feels stuck in his throat when he speaks anyway. “Good to know.”

Her eyes are shining, the kind of luminous he could easily get lost in. Just an inch or two more, hell a stiff breeze would force their lips together and he’s sure when that happens, life as he knows it will end. Jughead wants nothing more than to kiss her. To feel her legs wrap around his waist as he carries her back to his bike, to lay her out on the modified seat and hear that pretty voice scream out his name 

Instead, he steps back, letting her hands fall away from where they still toyed with the zipper of his jacket. “Betty,” she looks confused as her eyes find his. “You’re the one who wanted to interview me. If that was a euphemism, I’m sorry. I’m not that kind of boy.”

“Oh no, Jughead. I do want to interview you. I’d really like to take your...get your take on party politics and how they only ever seem to hurt the disenfranchised, rather than help them.” She bats long lashes at him, stepping around where he’s rooted to the spot and heads back into the woods. 

He finds her under a large oak tree, resting her back against the trunk as she produces a small moleskin notebook and pen he has no idea where she could have had on her. She motions for him to sit, so he does, finding a tree of his own to get comfortable against.

“Tell me about your bike, Jughead.”

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

They talk for hours, neither really noticing the time passing them by because they’re so caught up in one another. He tells her all about the Vincent, how it came to be his, how much of him he’s put into it, and exactly what that’s cost him. 

He doesn’t mince his words or hide the gory details, with Betty, all the thoughts and fears that have been plaguing his mind fall from his lips without hesitation or restraint. How yesterday morning he was sure that riding his motorcycle through Riverdale wouldn’t change a thing, that at the end of the day he would still have to go back home and wonder how long his dad would be gone this time, or his mom; if he’d be parenting Jellybean while trying to juggle school and the garage and whatever misdemeanors the Serpents enlist him for that week.

She listens intently, jotting notes about his bike, his life, things he’s never said out loud to anyone. When she asks what he wants out of his life, he knows right then and there that no matter what path he chooses, he wants her. She doesn’t look through him so much as see him. Not the Serpent heir apparent, not some delinquent from the Southside, but the real and true Jughead Jones. The one that hides beneath the layers of flannel and self-deprecating sarcasm. The one that desperately needed to be seen before he was lost to the relentless tide of MC life. 

“You seem academically inclined enough,” she muses after discussing college. “Why don’t you go for the scholarship?”

“That’s pretty vague there: the scholarship. Of course, I’ll go for it,” he sits straighter, pulling his legs up and crossing his them at the ankles, arms slung loosely around akimbo knees. “I’m sure scholarship opportunities are available left and right on the Northside, but not in my world. If you can’t find it on your own, well, you’re fucked. Southside High isn’t known for its excellent staffing.”

Now she looks exceptionally confused. Making her way before him she crouches down so they’re back on the same level. “You know the Roll is a charity event right?”

He nods. “And?”

“Wow, you really wanted nothing to do with the Roll, did you?” Her laugh is mirthless as her hand moves to his knee. “I’m not surprised really. It wasn’t officially announced until the last minute and no one ever seems to pay attention to the small details.”

Jughead clears his throat. “Is this diatribe leading to something or…”

“Jug, the proceeds from the Roll are being set up as a scholarship fund. Some deserving Southside High senior stands to receive state school tuition for at least a few years. But even just talking to you this short time I can tell that no matter what you do, you’ll make it. I know Riverdale seems like sunshine and rainbows north of the tracks, but it’s not. No matter what side you’re on, it’s a teenage wasteland.”

He wonders if she knows that he sees her too. 

His hands fall from his knees, one making its way to push a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear. He just wants to—needs to—touch her. She doesn’t seem to mind, she leans in as his thumb swipes over her cheekbone. They’re so close, her hands moving from his knee to his chest as she fists the leather gathered between them, breath hot on his neck. He slips his other hand around her waist, large palm splayed against the small of her back as his other moves down her body.

Betty’s pupils are near black as he pulls her into his lap, her legs wrapped around him feels better than he imagined they would. When their lips meet for the first time, it’s in a move so gradual, so instinctual, that it feels inevitable. Tentative and soft, he tries to pour every ounce of gratitude and appreciation into her. He thinks briefly about how everyone says that fireworks are the hallmark of a good kiss, but Jughead could not agree less. This isn’t fireworks; this is something that starts so much deeper. There’s definitely fire, but it rises slowly through his body like damp wood catching. He feels warmth building in parts of himself that have laid cold and dormant for so long, it’s glowing ember versus fully-fledged flame. Heat courses through him, molten like lava, as she slides her tongue past his lips. He groans, pulling her even closer, fingers sliding through her ponytail and pulling at the ends. The moan that escapes her brings him back to the present. 

He pulls away abruptly. “Do you really think I can do it? Get the scholarship?” She’s dazed, kissed breathless and by the twinge of her brow, confused. 

“That’s what you’re thinking about in the middle of our moment?”

He smiles, truly hopeful for the first time in longer than he can remember. “Baby, this is just one of many, many moments I plan on having with you.”

[lilhemmo]

i’ll risk it

send me two au’s from this list + a ship/character

a/n: not sure how i feel about this? but feel free to request more! 

You’ve been a teacher at Riverdale Elementary for six years now.

It was easy, once you heard about the Southside school system shutting down, you knew you had to help. You were working at Ronnie’s, living off your dead parent’s trust fund money while you went out to find yourself, or something like that. But, it all changed the day that news spread aired.

You volunteer, you serve, you teach, you do a little bit of everything. You tutor for the math club, you help with the chess team, and you even help coach the girls’ softball team.

And every time, when the Winter Solstice Dance rolls around, you’re first in line to volunteer as chaperone.

It’s adorable to see children ten and under dress up in poufy ball gowns and tiny tuxedos complete with a bow tie. You don’t mind service fruit punch and peanut butter sandwiches cut into snowmen because you get to watch little girls giggle and little boys blush.

Also, Sweet Pea is always on the chaperone list too.

You’ve spoken to him sparingly, when he comes to the school to volunteer or when you bump into one another in the hallways. He’s recently become more involved, and you’re wondering if it has to do with the seven year-old boy he’s escorting to the restroom.

Toni Topaz teaches second grade and she swears that Sweet Pea is single. Betty Cooper, an office administrator and part-time English teacher tells you in passing that he’s got a thing for you. Even Vice Principal Lodge swears that Sweet Pea lingers in the halls when he’s picking up who you presume to be his child, waiting to see if you’ll emerge from your classroom.

It’s not your fault that you haven’t approached him yet. He’s tall and muscular, and a little scary with the snake tattoo spread across his neck. On the other hand, he’s really handsome and you’ve never heard him raise his voice or cop an attitude with his kid when they’re late to the pick-up line or forget something in their classroom and he has to park the car and wait for him to come back.

Again, kind of scary, but in a handsome way, and unapproachable to the max. It’s not your fault you don’t speak to him; nobody does.

And then it feels like the universe is laughing at you when a certain tall, muscular, handsome-in-a-scary-way man bumps into you at the punch bowl.

Apologies flow from both of your lips and you straighten your dress before looking him in the eyes, “I am so sorry. I wasn’t even paying attention.”

“Well,” he chuckles, trying to right himself and keep the blush off his cheeks, “I don’t think most of the other guests here tonight would have bulldozed you over. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”

You shake your head and offer him your hand, “No, uh, we haven’t. I teach kindergarten, it looks like your boy is a bit older than that.”

You exchange names and then he does a double-take, “I-I’m sorry. My boy?”

“Yes, your son,” you supply, gesturing to the short, dark-haired seven year-old across the dance floor. He’s currently trying to convince an eight year-old that he doesn’t have two left feet. “He’s cute. I’ve seen him in the halls a couple of times, and only heard the best reports from his teachers. You’ve raised him really well.”

Sweet Pea’s face goes bright red and you’re afraid you’ve overstepped. You bumble through a few apologies, reaching out to press your fingertips to his forearms. “I’m so sorry. Again. It’s not my place to talk about your son like that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Sweet Pea covers your palm with his own, sending a bolt of lightning through your bones. “It’s just, that, well – he’s not my kid. He’s my nephew.”

You’re speechless now, only because more apologizing seems like it would be nothing short of annoying. You roll your lips and try to come up with something to say, but end up empty-handed. You shake your head and try your best to look him in the eye, craning your neck skyward.

“My fault for assuming,” you nod.

Sweet Pea manages a smile, retracting his hand after realizing he was still touching you. “It’s okay. Fogarty is in the military, so he’s gone for long periods of time. His wife died in childbirth, so I take shifts of helping the kid get where he needs to go, and giving him a place to sleep.”

The universe is howling in laughter at you right now.

You lick your lips, “That’s rather noble of you, I think. I’m sorry to hear about his mother.”

He smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. When he speaks, it sounds smoother than before, like honey rolling off his tongue, “We’re Serpents, we band together when things go south. We’re a family.”

“Sounds exactly like something he would need in a time like this,” you supply, noting the way that his eyes track your every movement. “We really appreciate your help chaperoning. The PTO board can’t ever get enough volunteers, and most teachers would rather be anywhere else other than spending more time at school.”

Sweet Pea reaches out and touches your shoulder with his hand, opening his mouth to speak, but interrupted by a tiny pair of hands yanking on his jeans.

He raises a brow and looks down at the boy you thought thirty minutes ago was his own flesh and blood, “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

“I’m ready to go home,” he whispers, trying his best not to let you hear.

You chuckle and take a step away so he feels more comfortable talking to Sweet Pea without you overhearing. Sweet Pea ruffles Charlie’s hair and nods, “Sure, kiddo. We can go whenever you’re ready.”

He stands to his full height once more and you’re overwhelmed by his stature. You look up at him, admiring his height and muscle. Sweet Pea catches you staring and a smirk graces his full lips, forcing a pink blush onto your cheeks. He reaches out and circles your wrist with a gentle touch, “I’ll see you next time?”

“Next time,” you echo, forcing the words from between your teeth.

Charlie tugs on his arm one more time, and you swear you don’t watch him every second until he walks out the gymnasium doors.

--

Betty and Toni show up at your doorstep the first night of Spring Break, and you swear you want to punch both of them in the face.

“How do you guys even have any energy?” you whine as they toss you around your bedroom, throwing clothes at you that you didn’t even think you had. You catch a sparkly shirt and throw it on, knowing that you’ll either do it willingly, or they’ll force it onto you.

“Listen, ever since the Southside has been shut down, the Wyrm has been operating secretly – only the true Southsiders know that it’s up and running. We’re going to go out!” Toni bites her lip as she takes in your appearance.

“And what if I see parents there?” you ask, raising a brow.

Betty smirks, “Well, just means that you saw them too.”

And just like that, they’ve got you tossed in the back of Toni’s truck and on the way to The Wyrm.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the Wyrm. Life just got too hectic and you became too busy with school planning and grading to even have a social life.

It smells the same as always when you three crack the wood doors open – like cheap beer and disappointment.

Betty claims a pool table while Toni grabs your first drink order of the night. It’s easy, falling into step like this with your girl friends. Honestly, you’ve missed having a life.

You’re definitely not tipsy enough when a group of three guys approaches the table, all wearing smirks and mischievous expressions.

Toni laughs, “Oh, Jones, what’s the big deal?”

“Fogarty, Pea, and I just wanted a quick game, is all.” The one you recognize as Jughead Jones saunters around the table to take a spot beside Betty. You blink, trying to remember where you’ve heard the name Fogarty before.

A hand presses to your shoulder and you look up to meet the hazel eyes of none other than Sweet Pea.

“Wow, hey,” you muster, a grin tugging on the corners of your mouth. You set you drink down on a coaster and pull him in for a hug, praying that it’s not too weird and that he’ll just go along with it. He does, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tight enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“We’ll team up,” the only one left, Fogarty, says as he bridles up next to Toni. She rolls her eyes but sends him a wink, “You picked the winning team, Fangs. Let’s get another round of drinks before we crush the competition.”

The pair walk towards the bar, engulfed in conversation, effectively leaving you practically alone with Sweet Pea, given that Betty and Jughead are knee deep in staring into one another’s eyes.

“So,” he starts, leaning against the pool table. His plaid shirt hands off his shoulders nicely, tight around his biceps and wide around the collar, exposing his collarbones. “I guess now is the time to tell you that I’m the reigning champ of pool, and if you screw this up for me, I will never live it down.”

You roll your eyes and swallow the thick lump in your throat, trying your hardest to appear cool despite the utter fear that has settled into your bones, “Well, then I should let you know that I’m practically a beast with a pool stick, so you have nothing to worry about.”

He bites his lip before looking you in the eye, a smirk playing on his mouth. He grabs the chalk and brushes it against the tip of the pool stick, dark eyes never leaving your face.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he answers in a deep voice, tossing you the chalk as he racks the pool balls.

Jughead throws the first game and Fangs throws the second, leaving you and Sweet Pea in first place two games in a row. Toni has been practically wasted for at least an hour, and Betty has been making bedroom eyes at Jughead since the third round of shots arrived.

“Ride home?” Sweet Pea offers, watching as Fangs exits with Toni, and Jughead stalks away with his arm around Betty’s waist.

You nod, chuckling, “Yeah, I guess so. My ride ditched me.”

“Yeah, Topaz isn’t always the best at paying attention,” Sweet Pea laughs. He helps you clean up your nearby table, stacking dishes and putting away the pool table equipment. You shrug, “I don’t mind. Usually I just Uber home.”

Sweet Pea guides you with his hand on your lower back, effectively pouring metaphoric hot lava down your spine. You force yourself to hold in a shiver due to nerves alone as he holds the door open for you and walks you to his motorcycle. It’s a short walk, and yet it feels like you’ve been running a marathon with the way your heart is beating and your breath is leaving your lungs.

As if the universe is still laughing at you, when Sweet Pea revs his motorcycle, you squeak and tighten your arms around his waist. He laughs, and you can’t bear to look at him so you just bury your helmet-covered head in between his shoulder blades and don’t move until the motorcycle has stopped in front of your house.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he speaks up as he juts his heel into the kickstand.

You shake your head, pulling the helmet off and cradling it in your hands, “No, it’s fine. My head is in the clouds, it feels like. I haven’t been up this late in so long, it’s pathetic.”

“I get what you mean,” he answers, stepping off the motorcycle. Sweet Pea reaches out and helps you down with his hands on your waist. “I’ve had Charlie the past couple of weeks, Fangs just got back from a couple weeks away, and the kid is having a hard time the older he gets with his dad being gone.”

You step closer on reflex, with his hands on your waist, “I couldn’t imagine…that must be so hard.”

“No kidding,” Sweet Pea chuckles. He reaches up with one hand to rub the back of his neck and you’re not sure if it’s the remaining buzz talking to you, or the night air that settles like a balm on your skin, but you reach up and tuck a stray curl behind his ear.

The moment your fingerprint presses against his skin, his irises connect with yours and a quiet falls over the two of you.

Before you can retract your palm from his face, Sweet Pea circles his fingers around your wrist to hold you still. His gaze is intense and his touch is hot; you’re not sure where this is going or if you even want to get there. All you do know is that his skin is soft and his lips look really full and your heart is running rampant in your chest.

Sweet Pea takes your hesitation to mean that you don’t want him to advance, and so he steps back and starts apologizing for being too forward. Before you can think too far into it, you push yourself up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his lips.

As you settle back down to the soles of your shoes in the gravel of the front yard, you feel a certain weight of fear settle in your stomach. You barely have time to breathe before you’re swept up into his arms and cradled against his body as he walks towards your front door. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck and hold on tightly to his shoulders as he walks up the steps and fumbles through the bag on your hip for your keys.

Sweet Pea sets you down on the nearest countertop, his hips never straying far from your own. He hooks his hands around your thighs as he looks up at you, trying to figure you out as you bite your lip and stare down at him.

“How long?” he asks simply, breaking the silence.

You cock your head to the side and he repeats the question, but now you’ve pulled yourself far enough out of your haze that you can process his question.

“Seven months, I think,” you answer. “I noticed you probably three years ago, but wasn’t sure until the start of this school year when I saw you at Orientation.”

He smirks and dips his head to your collarbone, eyelashes fluttering against the sensitive skin of your neck. Your breath hitches and you instinctively clutch your knees tighter around his waist.

Sweet Pea’s voice is gentle as it echoes against the shell of your ear, “I think mine has been close to two years. Saw you with Topaz and knew that you were good people if she was hanging around you.”

You can’t hide the surprise in your voice when you confirm that he said two years by echoing the words back to him. He chuckles and tilts his head back so he can look you in the eyes, “Pathetic, I know.”

“No, what’s pathetic is that for the past three years, I’ve wanted you to ask me to dance.”

He pulls away to tug you down from the counter, “Well, I finally have the guts to ask you.”

Somehow he manages to get the perfect song playing on his phone as he gathers you up in his arms, one palm on your waist and the other threaded through your own fingers. He sways with you, your bodies pressed to one another as the song progresses.

“Doubt this would have been appropriate at a children’s dance,” you murmur, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to become enamored with the warmth of his body.

Sweet Pea nudges his nose against your temple, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He cranes his neck and you feel the start of a breath against your lips, but you push yourself upward and meet him halfway in a surge. You wrap your arms around his neck and your teeth bump as your kiss hastens.

He chuckles against your lips, “Yeah, technically boys have cooties.”

“I’ll risk it,” you whisper, slotting your mouth to his before he can interrupt you again.

-

a/n: let me know what you think!

[pearldouglas]

Love is a Smoke Made with the Fume of Sighs

Summary: Everyone knows that Riverdale and Eldervair are rival kingdoms. What happens when the two heirs to the throne meet up and kiss without knowing who each other are?

A/N: So i said i was done fic writing but then SARAH @theheavycrown had to go and make THIS POST that gave me so much inspo and i blame her for this. Also i was gonna write this in old english but then i was like... nah. So i’m not sure what year this takes place in so don’t ask me (also that isn’t my gif)

 Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third. A name that everyone knew. In the kingdom of Riverdale and in the kingdom of Eldervair. Though, to his close friends and family, he was known as “Jughead.” The same way that Elizabeth Cooper was known as “Betty.” Two heirs to rival thrones that had more in common than they thought, starting with their nicknames.

Sadly, as much as these two had in common, neither of them had met or even seen what the other had looked like. For all Jughead knew, Princess Elizabeth could have been Princess Cheryl’s twin sister and would never know. He didn’t count on meeting her any time soon, or even bothering to want to know what she would look like. That is, until both of these families were invited to a coronation.

“Do we have to go?” Princess Jellybean frowned as her mother tied the back of her long purple dress.

“Yes, J.B., the Blossom family has been an ally to us since our kingdoms merged together. It’s important that we make an appearance at Cheryl’s crowning,” Jughead’s dad explained as he straightened out Jughead’s tie.

You see, the Blossom family had been ruling for quite some time. The red head family was with their own kingdom alone but had aligned with both the Cooper and the Jones families on different occasions. Clifford Blossom had been king for many years, that is until one morning they had discovered his son, Jason, was missing from his chambers. There was a hunt for the next heir for quite some time until he was found in the basement with a bullet in his head. It didn’t take long for the kingdom to find out that the king was behind his own sons murder, resulting in his wife, Penelope, to strike him over the head. With both boys in the family now dead, the throne would have gone to Penelope but since she had killed her own husband to gain justice for her son, she was exiled from the kingdom and was never seen again. So the crown would be handed off to Cheryl.

Jughead inaudibly groaned at the thought of leaving his bedroom to go to a castle he didn’t recognize when he could easily just stay at home and write while wearing his beanie, an article of clothing his parents despised. But his whole family was forcing him to go out, considering he would be king here after and needed to make alliances now.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked.

“Not long,” FP said as he stepped back to admire the tie his son was wearing, making sure it was smooth and tied correctly. “You’ll survive.”

“Come on, Jughead. If I have to go then you have to go too,” Jellybean said as she slipped on her shoes. “And who knows, maybe you’ll meet a pretty girl there.”

Jughead rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe”

After the carriage had stopped, Jellybean wasted no time dashing out and into the castle. She wanted a first look at the knight, Archibald Andrews. She had gone on and on about him to Jughead the entire ride there and Jughead was sick of it. He couldn’t be that good looking.

“Jellybean!” he yelled after his sister, almost tripping out of the carriage as he chased after her. But it was no use. By the time he had reached the front gates and into the large room, his sister was lost among a sea of strangers. He groaned to himself, yet again, knowing he was the one that had to go find her.

He pushed past the entire crowd looking for his little sister and saw many faces. Some he knew, some he had never seen before. He was feeling intensely confined in his own skin as he examined the entire room. Eventually, his eyes landed on a familiar raven haired princess, Veronica. She was in a back room hidden from the rest of the world and he could only see her through the crack of the door. He knew Veronica and Archie had been... cozy, to say the least. Jughead assumed that she would know of Archie’s whereabouts and wherever Archie was, Jellybean would be too.

He maneuvered through the army of strangers to the door where the dark haired girl was standing. She was on the outside of a circle of people playing a game. Boys and girls of all different ages were standing in a circle holding an empty bottle of wine while a girl stood in the middle of the circle. Jughead thought to himself what this game might be but he shrugged off the thought and moved through the circle to make his way to Veronica.

However, his journey was cut short.

He stopped moving when everyone began to howl. He looked down and noticed that the bottle was now on the floor and pointing toward him. Another boy from this group then shoved the girl with her eyes covered into Jughead’s arms. He flinched a bit and attempted to step back but found himself frozen in place. Apparently, walking through the circle was not the way to go since this is not how he wanted to end up.

“Pardon me, miss, I’m just a stranger and I don’t think I am playing,” Jughead explained.

“Well, my brave stranger, have a kiss,” the blonde girl stated with a smile. Jughead felt the color drain from his face before she went on her tip toes and planted a soft and delicate kiss on his lower lip. He could feel the ghost of her lips still there even after she pulled away. She moved down back to her feet and their eyes met. She blinked a few times and met his eyes. The world seemed to stop in that moment. They say when you meet the love of your life, time will stop. Jughead never believed in cliches until the music around them began to fade from into the darkness and he found himself drowning in this girls eyes and the soft palm of her hands that still rested on the side of his face. Neither of them were moving.

“I have to go,” he said quickly as he slipped out of her soft hands and through the crowd of people. She stared at him as he left, wondering who the stranger she had just kissed was.

He didn’t look for Jellybean. He found a small hallway and was able to lock himself in it as he began to process what had just happened.

A kiss.

It was just a kiss.

A kiss from the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

A kiss from a girl who was willing to be intimate with him before she knew his name.

The ghost of her lips lingered on his before he lifted his hand to reach up and touch them, as if to relive that moment. He could feel his face becoming hot and the room get smaller as he felt he was growing bigger. His heart was pounding in his chest and he didn’t know how to react to this new emotion. Fortunately, his thoughts were interrupted soon after.

“Jughead?” a voice called. Jughead snapped back into reality and looked up to see his tall friend standing in the doorway.

“Sweet Pea,” was all he could breathe out.

“Where have you been? You missed the Cheryl being crowned queen,” Sweet Pea explained. Had it really been that long? Had Jughead really been alone with his thoughts for long enough to have the seasons change?

“Does that mean we’re leaving?” Jughead asked. Part of him was hopeful, he wanted to get home and focus on his writing so he could focus on more important things, like becoming king. The other part of him was filled with sorrow if he left, knowing this would probably be the last time he saw the girl that had kissed him.

“No,” Sweet Pea explained and Jughead let out a breath of relief. “There’s a feast gathering right now. Are you hungry?”

Jughead stared at him blankly. “Always.”

Jughead stayed close to Sweet Pea, it was the only way that he would be grounded and back into reality and not float off in his mind once more.

Inside the dining hall there was a long table that people were seating themselves at. Jughead followed his taller friend to a spot at the end with their mutual friend Fangs. Eventually, Jughead’s family found them and they were reunited at the table.

They were all making small conversation- well actually, Sweet Pea and Fangs were talking while Jughead eavesdropped- when the doors on top of the stairs opened again. His gaze immediately turned to the door and saw Veronica Lodge walking down the steps with a blonde in a pink dress. The same blonde that had kissed him.

Jughead let his gaze stare at her for just a moment too long before the girl stopped and looked from Veronica to Jughead. Their eyes met for the second time that night and this time, Jughead didn’t pull away.

That is, until he was interrupted.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked him.

“Huh?” Jughead asked as he turned his head to see Fangs and Sweet Pea staring at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” Fangs repeated.

“Nothing, just-” he paused a bit to look back at the stairs to find the blonde was now at the table and finding her seat, next to Queen Cheryl. “Just looking.”

“Stop it,” Sweet Pea said with a stern voice. It was normal for Sweet Pea to be angry at times but this time it was different. There was a serious tone in his voice that felt bitter on Jughead’s ears.

“What? Why?” he asked, his nose scrunching up in confusion.

“You were looking in the princess’s direction,” Sweet Pea said.

“I don’t get it,” Jughead frowned. “Why can’t I look at someone? Do you have dibs on this girl or something?”

“No,” Sweet Pea snapped and Jughead did a double take at his firm tone.

“Then what is it?” he asked again. Fangs, sitting next to them both, sighed.

“You were looking at Princess Elizabeth,” Fangs explains.

“Princess Elizabeth? You mean as in the Cooper family?” Jughead asked.

“No, he means as in Eldervair’s number one enemy,” Sweet Pea growled.

Jughead couldn’t believe it. Had he really just kissed the only girl he was forbidden from ever loving, let alone kissing?

A/N: DUN DUN DUUNNN we all saw that coming. What did you guys think? If you like it I’ll make it a multi chapter fic! Also this chapter quite literally is the epitome of ‘it started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?’

[reject-princess97]

FP Jones Imagine (3)

I sat at the table of my one bedroom apartment, starring at the letter that sat in front of me. This letter was what was to determine my future as a doctor. I mean sure, graduation wasn't for another couple hours and I will be awarded my doctorate, but this letter was what I had spent the last eight years of my life working for. I took a deep breath and turned the letter in my fingers.

"Come on Y/N, it's just a letter. That's going to tell you weather or not you can return home after being away for so long." I told myself.

I left Riverdale 8 years ago to attend NYU then NYU Medical school where I was to graduate in less than three hours and in my hand sat a letter from Riverdale General, telling me weather or not I would be starting my residency there in the fall or not.

Now, don't get me wrong, I would be thrilled working at some of the places I had already been accepted into but working at Riverdale General meant I could move back home, I could be with my family on the Southside, The Serpents. I would be able to be with my older sister Alice and her girls Betty and Polly but mostly I'd get to go home to my boyfriend of ten years FP and FINALLY be able to build our life together, something we both agreed to put off until I was finished with school.

"OK, on the count of three, I'm going to open it." I told my self. "Or I'm gonna have myself admitted into Riverdale General for talking to myself."

I picked up my letter opener, I held it to the envelope and I took a deep breath.

1...

2...

3...

A knock at the door made me jump as I dropped my letter opener at my table. I stood up, and straightened my dress, a simple black one shoulder dress hugged my curves perfectly and I padded bare foot to my front door. Passing the million boxes that had been packed ready for my move to, where ever I'm going to end up. I passed my Serpent jacket hung by the door and opened my frond door wide to see a sight that shocked me completely. There in front of my stood FP Jones, in a shirt, dress pants and a tie. He still had his Serpent jacket on but he looked so smart.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped as I took in the sight in front on me. This was not something I was used to, FP wasn't a suit and tie guy, he was a jeans, flannel and leather jacket kind of guy and this, right here, was so much more than I could comprehend.

"Well, hello to you too." My boyfriend grinned.

"What...what are you doing here?" I asked, still stood in shock.

"You didn't think we'd miss your big day did you?" He asked.

"We?" I asked confused and he moved a side and winked as three more faces came into view. Jughead Jones, FP's son and My niece's Betty and Polly Cooper. Betty and Jug both wearing their jackets too.

Then a face I wouldn't have ever thought I would see at my graduation appeared beside Betty. Alice Cooper. My sister, Alice Cooper.

"A..Alice?"I asked in disbelief.

"Hey, baby sister." She smiled as she stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.

"I'm dreaming, right, you guys aren't really here. I know because Alice Cooper said she would NEVER forgive me for choosing the Serpents over her?" I questioned as I stepped aside to let them all into my apartment.

"Nope, I'm really here." She smiled. "And it's Alice Smith now."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. I don't want to fight anymore. I want to be sisters again. Can you forgive me and we can start over?"

"I forgave you years ago Ally." I smiled as I pulled her into a hug and pulled away.

"WAIT!" I yelled as I turned to see FP stood in my apartment, grinning wide.

"There it is!" he laughed as he held his arms out and I dove at him, kissing him roughly.

"Guy's, there are kids in the room." Jughead called out. I laughed as I pulled away and turned to my niece.

"Polly, Lizzy, my girls!" I squealed as I pulled them both into a long hug. "I've missed you guys."

"We missed you Aunt Y/N." Polly smiled.

"Yeah, when was the last time you were home?" Betty asked as she pulled away.

"About three months." I smiled. "I'm so happy you're all here." I smiled at my family.

"We're all happy to be here." Jug assured me.

"You look great baby." FP called as he pointed at my outfit. I looked down and laughed as I shrugged.

"What can I say, I like to leave things to the very last second." I joked.

"Come on Y/N, we'll help you finish getting ready, FP, you and jug...bond."Alice ordered as she grabbed my hand and pulled my into my room.

"We'll run and grab some coffee's!" FP shouted and we left them.

"Good god, look at this mess." Polly chuckled as she moved some clothes off of my bed.

"Yeah, I couldn't decide what I wanted to wear so I had everything out." I shrugged.

"OK, so hair?" Alice asked as she cleared a space on my dresser.

"Curled and down, I have to put a cap on and it would be nice to let my hair down for once while I'm on campus." I chuckled as I plugged my curling iron in.

"Make up?" Polly asked as she grabbed my make up bag.

"Classic. Smoky eyes, bold red lips."

"As I remember, that was a signature look for you back home." Alice smiled as she picked up the curling iron and began fixing my hair.

"Yeah, well, I had to tone down my 'Serpent' style while I was here. Not a lot, just enough to be taken seriously in the classes." I smiled up at her in the mirror.

"What about shoes and accessories?" Betty asked from behind us.

"Black stilettos in the closet and I have some jewellery in my dresser draws you can pick from." I called over to her.

I sat quiet for a while while my sister and my nieces dressed me and told me all about what I had missed while I was away from home.

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted as the Polly and Alice finished my hair and make up. I stood up and ran out.

"What? What's wrong?" Alice called as she and the girls followed me out of the room as I ran into my dining area and grabbed the letter.

"What's going on?" FP asked panicked as he came into the room. Jughead too.

I looked up at my family and then I opened the letter and read it out loud.

"Dear Miss Smith,

Thank you for applying for our paediatric and family medical residency....We are pleased to inform you your application as been reviewed and we are happy to offer you a place with us this fall." I read, getting louder as I read. "OH MY GOD! I GOT IT!"

"Got what?" My sister asked.

"A residency." FP answered. "Somewhere good I assume." He smiled at me. I looked up at my family with tears in my eyes and nodded.

"Best place I could possibly imagine." I grinned as I held out the letter and carefully wiped the tears from my face. Thank god Polly had the sense to use waterproof eye makeup.

"You've got a residency at Riv...Riverdale General Hospital!" Alice read. I smiled wide as I nodded.

"What?"

"Really?"

"Holy shit!"

"I'm coming home." I cried as I was pulled into a huge group hug. "I'm coming home FINALLY!"

After about twenty more minutes of basking in my news the six of us decided we should set of to the NYU campus so we grabbed everything we needed and walked out. I grabbed my Serpent Jacket on my way out.

"You're gonna wear your jacket to your Med school graduation?" Betty chuckled as I slipped it on.

"What, and let you losers show me up on my big day by looking better than me...I think not." I smiled.

"OK, so, there are six of us and two cars." Alice pointed out.

"Who's with who?"

"Juggie, you and Lizzy take my car." I smiled as I chucked him my keys but FP caught them and handed him his instead.

"Lizzy?" Jughead asked looking at Betty confused.

"It's something Y/N has called me ever since I was a baby." Betty explained as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards FP's car.

"I'll go with mom." Polly smiled as she and Alice walked off.

"That leaves me with you." FP grinned as he held my car keys up. I nodded and smiled as I reached for them but he moved them out of the way.

"Wow, not so fast baby, you gotta trade." He smirked as he grabbed my hip and pulled me closer.

"Oh yeah?" I smirked as I lent up closer.

"Yeah." He mumbled. I let my lips graze his and quickly grabbed the keys why he was distracted. I pulled away laughing as I walked of to my car.

"That's just wrong!" FP called as he ran behind me and grabbed my hand.

"Tough luck baby." I smiled as I reached my car. I climbed in the drivers side and FP sat shotgun as I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it, my car roaring to life.

The ride to the campus was short and quite. I let the radio play as we drove and FP rest his hand on my thigh, a smiled smile on his face as we pulled up.

"Wow, it's big." He gushed as I parked.

"ha, that's what she said." I  yelled as I turned my car off and climbed out, leaving FP chuckling.

"You're graduating medical school and an hour and you're making 'that's what she said' jokes?" My man chuckled, shaking his head is I walked over to meet him.

"Damn straight." I giggled.

"Honestly, I'm in love with an childish genius." FP sighed as he looked down at me and moved a piece of hair from my face.

"And I'm in love with a big lovable biker idiot." I shrugged. As I rest my hands on his chest "We all have our weaknesses."

"Yeah, and you're mine." He grinned as he smashed his lips to mine, in a heated but passionate kiss. He pushed my back up against my car and I let my hands slid under his jacket and onto his hips.

"Oi, loser, put that smoking hot dude down and grab your shit!" I heard a voice call. I chuckled and turned to find my best friend Sherri (like sherry the drink) standing holding a white box.

"Sherri baby!" I yelled. FP moved away and I grabbed his hand, leading him to meet Sherri.

"Sher, (Cher) this is FP." I smiled.

"Oh, the boyfriend." Sherri nodded as she looked him up and down. "I approve." She nodded.

"Babe, this is Sherri, my motivation while stuck in the hell hole."

"It's nice to meet you Sherri."

"Hey, there you are." I heard Jughead call as he and the three girls walked over.

"Oh, more people." Sherri smiled as she introduced herself.

"OK, Ladies, extremely hot gentleman..." Sherri began but I elbowed her in the ribs and she let out a loud laugh. "I'm going to steal this beautiful rebel away from you to go be given a piece of paper, if you just follow the crowd of...the most boring people I've ever seen in my life and you'll find some seats." Sherri instructed as she grabbed my hand. I kissed FP quick, handed him my jacket and waved to my family before I allowed Sherri hand me the white box and help me pull on the black robe and tassel cap. We then walked hand in hand to where the rest of the students were stood.

"So, you gonna tell me where the hell you've been hiding him?" Sherri asked as we waited for the ceremony to start.

"I haven't been hiding, he's been in Riverdale with his kid." I laughed.

"How the hell did you manage to lock that down for ten years without being in the same state most of the time?" She asked unbelieving.

"We made it work. He visited and stayed with me when I was in school and I spent our breaks back home in Riverdale." I shrugged.

"Well, I like him. Extremely hot, like her could turn me straight." she joked, making me laugh. "So, what's with the matching jackets?"

I looked at her confused, then I remembered, I never spoke about home much. Not because I was hiding anything, I just missed home so much, I would always get upset so I just never mentioned it.

"Oh, that's...ermmm, The Southside Serpents." I smiled at her sheepishly.

"Southside who now?"

"It's sort of a biker gang in Riverdale, the Northside reckon we're all bad news and are full of drug dealing murderers but I promise you that's not the case. The Serpents are some of the most caring and loyal people you will ever meet." I explained.

"So all this time, I've been making jokes about to being the class rebel and you actually are a rebel biker chick?" She asked astounded.

"Pretty much." I shrugged. "That's amazing. I bet you can't wait to get back, for a little while anyway."

"yeah, but here's the best bit." I grinned at her. She looked over at me, eyebrow raised. "I got a letter in the mail this morning. From Riverdale General Hospital."

"You got the Residency?" She asked hopeful. I nodded and she let out a squeal as she hugged me. "Oh Smithy baby I'm so happy for you." She congratulated. "So, does this mean all that stuff you wanted with FP can finally happen?"

"Oh, god I hope so, I love him with all my heart and now that I'm home we can look at settling down and seeing what happens next." I hoped.

Pretty soon the ceremony started and I waited anxiously waited for my name to be called out. I got a peak at the audience as I waited behind the curtain and smiled when I saw my family waiting for me.

"Y/N Smith." I heard my name being called and I walked up to the stage, shook hands with the professors and I stopped, smiled and waved at my family who all cheered the loudest as didn't stop until I shot them a wink, stuck out my tongue and throw up the Rock horns, making them all laugh and cheer louder before I walked off the stage and took a seat.

The rest of the ceremony dragged but once it had finished I forced my way though the crowd until I spotted FP searching the crowd of faces.

"Looking for someone in-particular?" I asked as I reached him. He looked down at me and smiled at me.

"Only the girl of my dreams." He shrugged.

"Well, looking no farther hot stuff, she's right here." I smirked.

"What? Where?" He asked again looking around us. I gabbed him in the stomach making him let out a laugh as he lent down and kissed me, softly.

"I'm so proud of you baby." He informed me as he hugged me tight.

"Right, let's get the photos over and done with." I ordered as I pulled away and looked at my sister who already had her camera out. She smiled wide and nodded as she set us up how she wanted and the grabbed Sherri, who was close by with her family and asked her to shoot the photo. The order went as such, Group photo. Alice and I. Polly, Betty and I. FP, Jughead and I. Sherri and I. FP and I and then one last one with The four girls, Alice, Polly, Betty and I.

"Come, on, let's see it." Betty smiled as she rushed over and took my award off of me and took a look.

"Dr Y/N Smith...it just doesn't sound right." Betty suggested as she looked over at Alice who nodded.

"I mean I'm not saying you should change your name...but you should change your name." Alice joked and I nodded.

"Oh, too what exactly?" I wondered.

"How about Jones?" Jughead asked. I looked at him a little shocked.

"Dr Y/N Jones...now that sounds better. What do you think FP?" Betty asked as she closed the little folder the award came in and smiled at me wide. I saw Jughead and Alice had a camera on me and then Sherri look behind me, shocked. Confused, I turned around to see FP, knelt down on one knee smiling up and me and holding a ring. A big one too I might add.

"I think it sounds perfect. What do you think Y/N? Would you consider taking the plunge and becoming a Jones?" He asked as he took my hand.

"What the hell is happening right now?" I asked shocked. I heard the group laugh and I looked around to see we had gathered quite the crowd, all watching as FP chuckled and shook his head.

"For a genius doctor you're pretty slow babe, I'm asking you to marry me." He explained. "Look, Smith, we've been through a lot these last ten years, you've been living away for 8 of them and it hasn't been easy but we got through it. I was always planning on doing this today even if you wasn't moving back home because I would have followed you anywhere baby, you're my ride or die baby. Now with you coming back home to work things are just falling into place and I just want us to FINALLY start live out life together. So, Y/N Smith, will you be my ride or die forever. Will you marry me?"

I couldn't find the words, I just nodded as tears fell from my eyes and a lump grew in my throat. FP Slid the ring onto my finger and stood up, pulling me into his arms and kissing me hard as everybody around us clapped and cheered.

"FINALLY!!! MY DAD HAD THE BALLS TO PROPOSE!" Jughead yelled making everybody around us laughed including FP and I.

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Thirty-Eight: As Above, So Below”

Day At Least Seven Solitary Coif: struggling

Alice’s thigh: stunning

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: FP’s jellybean tattoo: incredibly, tenderly sad

Certified pedigree: “I’m glad the Farm opened you up to the possibility of us”: either Alice thought about this to herself, or she (absolutely) asked the rest of her cult what they thought. what they THOUGHT about her sleeping with FP again. “What d’you think, girls?” Alice wine clubbed FP Jones’s dick!

who has more game, FP or Jughead? FP a) is a grown man, b) is oftentimes gainfully employed (I’ve forgotten if he’s employed right now), c) is strong enough to carry a high school boy out of the woods, d) was VERY smooth with his seemingly instinctual “Then don’t. Tell him,” e) did that thing where he took the gum out of his mouth when Alice came to his trailer, and f) looked pretty good in his crisp Pop’s uniform when he was employed at Pop’s. however FP also a) tends to drink when not employed and b) is fucking obsessed with Toledo, a town I will burn to the ground if I ever set foot in it. meanwhile, Jughead a) climbed up a fucking ladder to Betty’s bedroom, b) ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT when he and Betty almost fucked each other in the kitchen, c) KILLED IT AND BURIED IT in the moments before fucking her on the couch when he was all, “Or you could stay,” and fucking touched her dress like she was an angel of the Lord and he was just a humble shepherd boy whose eyes were not worthy to gaze upon her countenance, d) only strategically removes his hat, and e) rides a motorcycle. the hat is not a con, necessarily, and being a writer in high school is a cross some of us simply have to bear, but he is like, kind of a pain sometimes and a little squirrelly, but w/r/t the love of his life, he has tailored himself to her every need almost perfectly

OH AND I FORGOT WHEN HE KISSED HER SCABBY BLOOD KNUCKLES! OH SHIT!

Veronica has the most game on the entire show

I like when they have Jughead use words like “modicum”

“Ben’s death haunts me, Jug. He didn’t scream. Why not, I wonder?”: writing credits this episode go to Daphne de Maurier

YYEEEAAAAAHHH THE BLUE & GOLD CRIME BOARD BABY

I would almost expect something more from the warden’s tie, except that I know plain clothing is, in and of itself, a warning sign

anything that gets Veronica in her reading glasses is okay by me, and this includes Pop’s hemorrhaging money

Jughead can wear just a T-shirt sans jacket or flannel any old time he wants, I’m just putting that vibe out there

“Of course we’re calling it a speakeasy.”

Jug’s suspender game is strong, so really Betty should know she has nothing to worry about

his stupid dumb round face looking at her when she pulls him aside is pretty. remember when he kissed her hands? fucking Jughead sometimes, dude

“Evelyn...creeps me out.”

I like Betty’s overalls and Evelyn’s romper thing

what I expected when Kevin dialed the phone was for the whole booth to sink into the basement like a surprise elevator

Kander and Ebb wrote the music to, among much else, Cabaret and Chicago, those being some of their most gay

I LOVE VERONICA’S WHITE SHIRT. IT’S JUST A FUCKING PLAIN WHITE SHIRT, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: is there some heat between Veronica and Reggie? am I crazy?

the foursome of Reg, Ronnie, Josie, and Kev is basically just as strong as the cour four strictly in terms of hair

I don’t know that I like Penny’s sleeveless Ghoulies vest more than her leather Serpents jacket but I do know I like it at least the same amount (oodles)

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Day One Lifted Bag Off Head Hair: GREAT

OH MY GOD, JOAQUIN!!!! WHEN WILL JOAQUIN REST. DOES EVERY TERRIBLE THING HAVE TO HAPPEN TO JOAQUIN BEFORE IT HAPPENS TO SOMEONE ELSE. IS JOAQUIN IN THE FARM

does Archie have a scar on his head? is it KJ’s? have I lost track of something?

Gay?!: BABY TEETH is an absolute twink and he was tapped to save his life

I’m suspicious of Peter because his name is, simply, “Peter”

Gay.: Cheryl and Toni are just like lounging in a single chair together and that’s the bisexual agenda

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s heavy card stock IS very nice

Ethel’s cute yellow cardigan is back, which matches her thermos and lunchbox

I enjoyed when Betty sits down and you think she’s going to apologize for being there at Ben’s death but instead she just fucking grills Ethel some more

“...G&G.”

OOOOOOHHHHHHH JUGHEAD’S TURNING IT ON WITH THAT PRINCESS SHIT

Please protect Betty: Betty’s entire expression at being told she’s “not worthy,” God bless her

The female gaze: I don’t know why Reggie’s shirt is off. probably Reggie doesn’t even know

Reggie’s panicked JJ face is one of the top five panicked faces of all time. he’s tied at least with the girl in Jurassic Park when she sees the raptor shadow and her hand holding that green Jell-O starts shaking

Minetta doesn’t even pretend he’s looking for something other than whatever was in those boxes. cold, Minetta

REGGIE’S SALUTE

Reg simply being aware that Minetta and the Ghoulies work for Hiram almost brings me to tears. not only is he a walking sculpture with a pair of lips that would make Sarah Steller throw herself off the Hoover Dam, but he is also a genius

VERONICA IS SO BEAUTIFUL. “Not until I’m properly armed.” just look at her!

Ethel didn’t even come to the first meeting of the Farm Club? cold, Ethel

Evelyn offering Betty a pizza slice comes off as her genuinely wanting Betty to have a piece of pizza if she wants, which is the first non-creepy thing she’s done (Jughead would take the pizza)

she of course follows this up with “that darn medication”

Archie looks like a corpse in the blue light

tell me “wakey, wakey” is a Kill Bill reference. TELL ME IT IS

the guy they have fighting Archie looks just enough like Khabib Nurmagomedov that I was like, is this an unconscious wish on someone’s part to do a rematch of red-haired McGregor vs. Khabib except it’s on Riverdale so it’s in something called “the Pit” which is a drained swimming pool and they’re in juvie? (it’d have to be a fantasy in that Conor McGregor would get his ass beaten by Khabib Nurmagomedov in any rematch in any universe, in the universe)

dude does his best but, as Sweet Pea and Vintage Reggie can tell you, you cannot let Archie land a) a right hook or b) an uppercut or he will end this fight

who’re the rando white women watching? their fucking wives? goddammit, white women

I think Baby Teeth could take Reggie jawline-to-jawline

Veronica’s kittenish heels sinking into the dirt as opposed to her striding effortlessly as Moses parting the Red Sea

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “THAT VIPER BITCH”

Antoinette Topaz is fluent in many languages, including Veronica’s

God bless jingle-jangle: the fucking cat burglar sequence set to “Jingle Jangle” just about fucking did it

Ethel’s candle game is reaching midnight mass-levels of mastery

so did Betty and Jughead get their ad hoc sex den (good band name) out of the bunker before Ethel got there? or was it there the whole time but for Ben and Ethel?

I feel I want to write down that Ben abandoned Ethel to ascend prematurely with Dilton otherwise I’ll forget and will be tricked by something later on

POLLY’S KNITTED HALTER

closed captioning capitalized the Shady Man, the second strangest Riverdale skull

Alice really just did Betty like that! maybe Betty DOES need to live in a bunker

50 Shades of Betty: “The wig. The webcaming.”

I love how Betty always gets very sarcastically OH, OKAY THEN when she decides to start laying out some truths

Alice stands up and her dress has some sort of insane asymmetrical hemline and she’s also got an ankle bracelet!!!!!!

Dilton Doiley Ethel Muggs is a canonically great dancer the DM: Ethel’s little crush on Jughead circa his birthday party has not abated. even when he was being insane about the Serpents I bet she entertained sweet fantasies of buying a pleather jacket off ModCloth and Jughead “inducting” her. so she found herself a coterie of pliable boys who were also gangly and weird and obsessed with details and pacts and she became their princess. so THERE. you fucking bet she’s gonna get a kiss out of Jughead before she fucking poisons herself

Ethel’s dungeon master voice is giving me a sort of ASMR vibe

I don’t want to veer too wildly but she is wearing a crown, her character has “a crown”

dog, was she about to kill Jughead right then and there? Ethel goes hard. Ethel might go harder than Jughead

“You’re asking me to play Russian roulette!” “I’m asking you to play Gryphons and Gargoyles.” THIS BITCH (in context it’s very smooth and bitchy)

GOD BUT JUGHEAD DID DRINK IT. VERY WELL KNOWINGLY, HE DID IT

Jughead eats: Salud is just the sort of thing I’d expect Jug to say before maybe drinking cyanide (or skol, if he had been watching Ingmar Bergman)

I don’t know if I could drink that much Kool-Aid that fast. Kool-Aid and Sunny D always made my teeth feel filmy. I could definitely down that much Capri Sun, if it were in a pouch the size of my shin

anyway Ethel’s sick move telling Jughead he has to kiss her first got an emotional reaction from me at almost the level of when Cheryl came down to Jason’s wake in that white dress

Jughead and Ethel are almost of a height, which is weirdly lovely

These students are legally children: maybe Ethel put the poison in after Jughead had chosen. I maybe doubt she would’ve just fucking assassinated Jughead

Jughead was reading next to her when she woke up, which is just a specific kind of daydream you have, sometimes

Sixth period is Intro to Film: HEISENBURG

Toni’s pictures are certainly shot with a mind to lighting, depth

is blue light the light of evil? Hiram’s study, the warden’s office?

Archie > Dawson: of course Archie imagines talking to his father and of course he imagines his father telling him to “take one.” I love Self-Sacrificial Lamb Archie (or just momentarily self-sacrificing). better than Fascist Archie!

well, Betty’s room has blue light too. fucking forget it then

although she is SURROUNDED BY EVIL at all times

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: “I trust them more than I trust you” is season one-level Alice-shade

Cheryl’s sheaths: I like very much Cheryl’s bosomy sequin thing and Toni’s back jewelry

I also like the RROTC boys in their like WWII uniforms, which may be anachronistic but still hard vintage, and the cigar girls

Jughead doubts it: there’s so much going on when Betty goes all melty and wipes some of the Fresh-Aid off Jug’s lips and Jug, who is not smiling, looks at Sweet Pea helping Veronica

Best costume bit: Veronica is in magenta, because I deserve it

I can’t wholly endorse Reggie’s non-black plaid trousers paired with a solid black blazer but I CAN endorse Reggie as a whole

Cheryl’s Hiram’s pins: I think Hiram has a fucking octopus pin! I think it is!!!!!!!!

the wallpaper behind Hiram downstairs is...interesting. it’s like a cutout from that Disney cartoon for “Winter Wonderland”

we stay on Veronica’s face for sort of an extra beat, so I can confirm a) she’s still beautiful and b) she has a sparkly thing in her hair

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie’s got that thing going on where you gem up the part in your hair

God I love a good Riverdale music/mayhem montage. like what were they playing when Jughead ran the gauntlet? fuck sometimes this stuff is just still so good (“Mess Around” when Reggie lunged for Jughead also counts, though not performed live somewhere else in Riverdale at the same moment)

“Anything Goes” is in fact not Kander and Ebb but Cole Porter

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: I love a good bead of bloody spit dangling from someone’s mouth during a slow-mo fight sequence

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “THAT KID…..IS A STAR.”

that fucking rum, can you believe it? the fucking shade of it all

Fifth period is AP English: OH MY GOD. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. OH MY GOD, THE FUCKING HAMMER. THE COUNT OF MONTE MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN YES GOD HOLY BITCH

“Damn good coffee”: the goddamn shot of FP and Alice standing together flanked by the flames of their righteous destruction of the G&G manual

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is pretty fucking brave to still be living in Hiram Lodge’s HOUSE. and of course that’s what her dressing gown looks like

oh my god, Joaquin is still alive? Joaquin’s STILL HERE?

ARCHIE’S GONNA BREAK OUT OF PRISON AND I MUST CLEANSE MYSELF OF SIN TO BE WORTHY OF ITS GLORY (I trust Riverdale a lot more again at the moment)

so wait, Jughead put the cot BACK? are these two different bunkers? is it the same effing bunker???

“It’s over”: you fucking fool

yes, it’s the same goddamn bunker. the candles are still there! I guess I thought the wicked juju from Ethel’s ~SUICIDE ATTEMPT~ would deter the two of them from FUCKING IN THE EXACT SAME BUNKER but Betty and Jughead literally do not give a single damn where they do it

Jug’s headphones!!!!!!!!!

Cheryl’s expression at reading the G&G manual is appropriately be-Blossomed

The Blossom spawn: she still has a photo of Jason in her locker and I think a sticker that says “Literally no one cares”

What damn high school in America: those manuals have a QR code on the back, so you can play on your phone! GIVE ME THE APP, RAS

who unsheathed Ethel? LORD, WHO LET HER LOOSE?

GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NEXT WEEK: Camila Mendes wears glasses the entire time

[lilibug--xx]

something good will come

This is a missing moments bughead fic for 2x06, Chapter Nineteen: Deathproof.

Read it on ao3 here! :)

Thanks to @strix for being my beta, much much love. And to @a92vm for reading over my stuff, like always, and providing me with so much feedback and encouragement.

Betty felt the world turning below her feet, but it was like she was moving in slow motion. The anxiety, the guilt, the anguish; it was weighing her down, grinding her into the dirt. Black Hood was catching up to her, and she needed to turn the tables. She was going to take back her power, her friends, and her sanity.

“We’re meant to lose the people we love. How else would we know how important they are to us?” — F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”

 A sense of impending doom washed over her like a tidal wave. 

It assaulted her with such fervor that she dropped the wrench from her hand with limp fingers. Betty heard the crack of it against the pavement, but it was lost on her. Her lungs were burning with the breath she couldn’t quite catch, and she grasped her hand around her throat. Green eyes were clouded with the steady stream of her anguish, her chest constricting and stuttering as the world started to quiet. Everything was muted, the only thing Betty could hear was the blood pulsing in her veins like the beat of a drum, volume steadily intensifying.

Betty slid down the brick wall of the building, the chill of the stone and air doing little to bring her to her senses. Her legs had carried her outside, away from the auto shop, away from Jughead.

The look on his face had broken her heart, splintering it into even more pieces.

Betty, you did the one thing that could actually hurt me...

His words were burned into her brain; the tense lock of his jaw, the dark bruises on his face, his split lip, and hunched shoulders. The bite of his words were stronger than she had anticipated. The shake of his head as he turned away from her, crossing his arms, had her lips parting to form words that wouldn’t come.

She wanted, needed, to get him through this race. Had to keep up this façade for the Black Hood a little longer. But Jughead was making it so very hard.

It would have been slightly easier if they didn’t have to see each other, but Betty was the only one who could help. Reggie had offered his car for the race against the Ghoulies, and sure, it was a gem on the outside, but it wasn’t sparkling under the hood. Archie had volunteered her services immediately after getting the okay from Reggie, blurting it out as they had all left the jingle jangle den the day before.

The grit of Jughead’s teeth was audible as he brushed past her, leaving them all behind. The clench of his fists as he rasped out for her to meet him at the Riverdale Auto shop tomorrow — today.

Betty had put on a brave face and had started out resilient. Her resolve started to break at Jughead’s tone, his words pushing her to a point she wasn’t going to be able to hold. He was right, he was vehemently right, and there was no denying it.

She had choked out an, I’m sorry, Jughead, before trying to tell him that she would explain eventually, but of course, he didn’t quite understand what she meant by that. Betty didn’t blame him — it was her fault, or rather, the Black Hood’s fault. She was just trying her best to keep everyone safe.

It was exactly like Archie had said; the Black Hood was torturing her. They were playing this game of check-and-mate and Betty wasn’t sure which piece she was playing anymore. She hadn’t slept, at least not without nightmares since Fred was shot, little more than two weeks ago. Everything kept her up at night, particularly naming Nick St. Clair to the Black Hood.

Once that phone call had ended, Betty had felt this tremendous guilt well up inside, threatening to spill out of her in an anguished howl. It had ebbed a miniscule amount when she recalled Cheryl’s situation,what Nick had done to her, and what he deserved because of it, but it was still there. It didn’t leave when she had ran to his hotel room to find him alive and well; and it certainly didn’t leave after talking to the Black Hood again.

She was nothing like that psycho, Betty knew that. Still, his words had haunted her. She was deeply unsettled, right down to her very core, when he had called her true colors beautiful.

It was eating her alive, twisting and thriving in her gut — all these feelings and no outlet. Betty had explained some things to Archie, but not everything, not every fine grain detail. She was lucky to have him; lucky that the Black Hood hadn’t made her step away from Archie first. He would be able to comfort Veronica, at least. Betty felt incredibly guilty over the way she had spoken to her.

She had only gone to Nick’s party for an opportunity to cut Veronica out in a public setting; one where her friend would be less likely to question her motives, and instead feel humiliated with their friends watching. The sadness reflected in those brown eyes when she told Betty to leave if she was such a monster, was overwhelming.

Broken and feeling like she was falling down a hole she would not be able to climb out of, she succumbed to the pressure and confessed everything to Veronica when the other girl pushed in the right direction, prodding Betty with decidedly a no-bullshit-permitted type of question. There was no way she was going to survive this if she didn’t have another force behind her. She felt a little better, at least, with Veronica knowing the truth of her torment.

Betty cried every night, and suffered from seemingly a permanent headache. Her hair hurt to wear up in a ponytail — it was suffocating and she swore she could feel someone tugging on the strands when no one was around.

Blindly, her hand reached up and yanked the elastic out of her hair roughly, the bun she had tied her hair into falling out and around her like a golden curtain. Tossing the tie to the ground, Betty brought her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her fingernails digging into her forehead as she heaved a sob into her palms.

Betty could feel the grime on her hands mixing with the wet tracks on her face,feel the deep indentations on her palm from where she had been channeling her anguish, transferring it into physical pain.

“Betty?”

Her ears were ringing. The name like whispered caress through her muffled senses. It took her a while to realize it was her name, that someone had called.

Hands were pulling hers away from her face. Betty’s lips trembling, fingers shaking as she looked up to Jughead.

“ Betty…”

There was a soft echo in her ear, like he had been saying her name a little while, more than the twice she had caught it.  

Through her blurry vision, his lips were turned down into an uneasy frown, eyes boring into her with a look of apprehension caught in their stormy mists.

Betty’s lungs were still burning, and she had realized now that she wasn’t even breathing her quick, shallow breaths anymore. Her lips parted in a rush and she sucked a gulp of air in, eyes going wide as she scrambled away and out from where Jughead had stooped down to her.

Shuffling on her knees away from him, Betty reached the edge of the sidewalk, leaning over it and staring into the loose gravel littering the road. She gripped fistfulls of the rocks, grinding them into her hands as she counted the little divots in the road, one by one.

By focusing on something else, Betty was able to better control her breathing as the dread eased back from its tight grip on her shoulders. She felt Jughead’s hand rest on her lower back gently, the bottom of his palm pressing against the skin of her back where her shirt had ridden up. The touch grounded her, the warmth of his skin a light in her blindness.

“Betty, breathe. Slowly, baby; in and out.”

His voice was raspy and despite everything, she could hear how distressed his tone was. She tried to do as he said; taking a breath and holding it longer, letting it out in a shaky exhale. She repeated it several times, all the while aware of the pad of Jughead’s thumb rubbing small circles into her back just above the waistband of her overalls.

Once the numbness went away from her limbs and her ears were processing normal sounds, did she realize she was leaning far into the road. He tugged her back and Betty released the rocks in her hands, sitting with a huff as her back collided with Jughead’s chest.

They were sitting on the sidewalk, Betty half in his lap with Jughead’s arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She had placed her hands on his thighs, gripping for purchase. Her head had fallen back onto Jughead’s firm shoulder, eyes sliding shut as she fought the sudden exhaustion she had been hit with.

The sound of his voice was soothing in her ear. Jughead was speaking softly, his lips hovering at her temple. The tips of his fingers pressing into her sides securely.

“On soft Spring nights I’ll stand in the yard under the stars — Something good will come out of all things yet —”

Betty recognized the words; he had said them to her before. She had a similar episode when Polly had gone missing from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, only they hadn’t been together then. Jughead had spoken them to her when she was cuddled into him in the backseat of her mother’s car, on the long and uncomfortably quiet ride back.

Betty had been on verge of a panic attack, but he had grabbed her hand gently within his own and slung his other around her shoulders. Jughead whispered the words into her ear, his breath tickling the skin of her neck. It had stopped her, made her think, to focus on something else other than her fears and her worry.

“—And it will be golden and eternal just like that—”

Jughead sighed against her, she could feel the gentle swipe of his fingers on her skin, sneaking under the edges of her shirt.

“There’s no need to say another word.”

He repeated the quote from “Big Sur” by Jack Kerouac again, the softness of his voice soothing the ache in her heart.

With her breathing back to normal, Betty turned in Jughead’s lap, her head nuzzled into his neck; she needed the physical comfort his arms brought. Betty breathed him in; the scent of pine, old books, a hint of aftershave — combined with the new addition of leather, eased her into a calmer state. Her hands tightly gripped the sides of the shirt he had borrowed from the auto shop.

“Juggie…”

He squeezed her tighter, hauling her against him. “It’s okay, Betty. We don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I’ll wait.”

Betty’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips pressing softly against the hollow under Jughead’s jaw. She heard his audible swallow, felt his fingers twitch against her before he was clearing his throat and tugging her to stand.

“Let’s go inside, I’ll get you a water and we can take a break from the car for a while.”

She nodded, pulling herself, reluctantly, away from the warmth of Jughead’s body. Betty held onto Jughead’s arm as they walked back into the shop. The rest the day was a little bit different, but a little bit better.

It was still awkward, there was still tension; but Betty could see a light at the end of the tunnel. She wasn’t shrouded in complete darkness, there was a redemption at the end of this painful arc.

Andwhen Betty lay down that night, the tears didn’t come. The nightmares continued — she was getting closer to the Black Hood every night. This latest one was a crowd of people wearing black hoods and taunting her with the mistakes of her past; dangling her friends in front of her, just out of reach.

But each day when she woke, she was a little bit stronger. No matter the assault that the Black Hood was forcing on her, she was going to grow.

Betty took a cold shower to bring her senses out of their sharpened state before Veronica came over. They had searched her all too pink bedroom for something worthy of the unusually warm day. They decided on a pair of highwaisted denim jeans and white ruffled crop top. Veronica curled her ponytail for her and suggested a red bandana.

"Very Rosie the Riveter, I like it,” she ran a finger along the edge of the bandanna, smile lighting her face.

Veronica had clasped her hands behind her and smiled at her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “It’s a look, but you own it my little grease monkey.”

Betty shooed the raven-haired girl away, eyes rolling.

They rode with Reggie, Archie, and Kevin to the agreed meeting spot. Of course it wasn’t exactly as low-key as FP would have liked. Considering it looked like a street party gathered around a group of cars and motorcycles.

Jughead was there, leaning against Reggie’s car, arms crossed over his chest. As they pulled up beside the car, Betty was able to admire the stretch of the leather across his broad shoulders. She got out of the car slowly, trailing behind everyone.

Once their peace was said and Tall Boy had announced it was time to get this show on the road, Betty grabbed Jughead’s elbow.

“Wait,” she called, and thankfully he turned back to her. They were standing further apart than she would like, but there were people looking at them. Betty eyed the group of Southside Serpents staring at them as they crowded around their bikes. She couldn’t quite decipher the look on Toni’s face.  

Looking back up to Jughead, she began the words she had rehearsed.

“Before you get in the car, I need you to know…” she looked down at the gravel, toeing it with the edge of her converse. The intensity of his blue eyes on her was startling in this heat. Betty looked back up, wiping her sweaty palms on the backs of her thighs.

“I never stopped loving you, Jug. I’m not sure I can…” her voice was starting to crack and she gave a little shake of her head.

Jughead’s gaze softened then, his lip twitching as his eyes darted over to Archie a ways away. He brought his gaze back to her, not quite so dark as it had been before. The frown lines around his mouth eased up and she could see him hunch his shoulders into his slouched posture that was so familiar rather than the rigid stance he had been holding himself in.

“Also, remember…”  Betty trailed off, she wanted to tell him everything. About the Black Hood, about her, about Archie, Veronica, Cheryl and Nick, and the Sugarman. But this wasn’t the time nor the place.

She wanted to tell Jughead to kiss her, to take her away for real, like they imagined at Pop’s.

With a tilt of her head, eyes squinting slightly in the light of the sun, Betty changed direction.

“Don’t ride the clutch and don’t let it slip between gearshifts, okay?”

Jughead shook his head at her, eyebrows raising slightly, “You’re an enigma, Cooper.”

He shuffled, taking a step towards her. His arm reached out as if to grab her waist and his head started to dip towards her. Betty’s stomach started fluttering in time with the fast beat of her heart. But, Jughead must have realized he couldn’t kiss her because he pushed off to her right before anything else happened, barely clearing her shoulder as he walked away. Her eyes caught the clench of his jaw before he passed.  

Betty let out the the breath she had been holding. She had wanted nothing more for him to grab her and kiss her breathless, senseless. With a shake of her head, she turned around and moved to Veronica’s side. She tucked one hand into the pocket of her jeans and rested the other against Reggie’s truck.

She watched the cars rev their engines and she hoped she had done enough to give the car more of an edge that it had before. Betty was chewing her lip as Cheryl raised the flag with a flourish. They had all been cheering, running after the cars as they sped off. Her heart was in her throat as she stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

Betty shielded her eyes from the sun, standing with a hand on her hip as she watched Archie and Jughead, and the Ghoulies, disappear into the distance. Everyone had gone back to their spots, sipping on their cups of Trash Can punch that someone had brought in a big red cooler. She continued to stand there, in the middle of the road until she felt Veronica dragging her back towards their group of friends.

It didn’t last long, because Reggie’s car was coming back down the road — no Ghoulies in sight, but also entirely too soon. Something was wrong.

It turns out the police — Sheriff Keller — had been on the other side of the bridge. Archie had called the police prior to the race. Betty had winced, shaking her head. Of course, he hadn’t discussed that with anyone.

There was tension all around. Jughead and Tall Boy arguing, Sweet Pea getting in Archie’s face, Jughead and Archie standing chest to chest. The testosterone was a bit overwhelming.

They had to leave. Everyone was scattering and she saw Jughead heading for Reggie’s car. Betty turned to Archie with a look that she hoped he understood. Simultaneously saying this isn’t over, and why would you do that, Archie?, with her eyebrows as she pulled the passenger door open on impulse and got into the car with Jughead.

He glanced at her, but had opted against saying anything. Just peeled down the road and, yep, the car has some kick now, she thought as she pressed her back into the seat.

Jughead’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, ever so proper at ten and two. Green eyes traced the tight line of his arms up to his face. “Slow down, Jug.”

He relaxed at her voice, the tightness in his shoulders lifting as his lips parted in a quiet sigh.

“Let’s go home,” Betty offered softly, her hand reaching out and gently resting on his elbow. It was time for them to talk.

When they got to the trailer, they had settled in on Jughead’s couch and Betty took a deep breath. She welled up all the courage she had been saving during the car ride, her shoulders set strongly as she spun her tangled web of encounters with the Black Hood.

“...So, then the Black Hood told me to figure out who the Sugarman was. That if I could, he would stop, whatever this is, that he’s doing.”

Betty reached a hand up to wipe the tears that had started to fall from her eyes when Jughead’s hand grabbed her wrist.

She looked up to him, his eyes holding that soft look that made her insides melt. That look of vulnerability that always crossed his features when they talked about really serious things. Betty looked away, down to their hands.

Jughead had let her tell the whole story, her motivations and actions, her dealings with the Black Hood without interruption. He held her hand the whole time, thumb brushing her palm, over the scabs there.

Betty had started her story by turning her hands over for him. Jughead had kissed each one of her fingers and both her palms. Curling his hands around hers protectively, drawing her closer to where they were facing each other on the couch. She felt the tickle of Hotdog’s shaggy hair on her back where he was curled up behind her.

Jughead brought a hand up to cup her cheek, his fingers swiping at the wetness. Betty leaned her cheek into his palm, the comfort and warmth radiating all down her spine.

“I love you, Betty,” his voice flooded her ears, all soft and gentle, a tone reserved only for her. She opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. Jughead’s eyes had that look of vulnerability so reminiscent of the precious times they had proclaimed their love for one another. Her heart felt like it was bursting from her ribcage.

“I love you too, Jughead, I told you, I don’t think I—”

His lips were crashing into hers, the words she had been trying to say swallowed between them in the sizzle of heat. Betty’s eyes fluttered closed, as she leant forward, pressing her lips more firmly to his. Jughead dropped his hand from her face to slid around her waist, tugging her forward and into his lap.

They shifted together, Betty straddling Jughead as he stretched his legs out in the space she had made. She leaned him back against the armrest, pushing their chests together.

The steady beat of their hearts were in sync, and the warmth from their closeness was so uplifting; Betty felt the weight of the whole Black Hood situation leave her and she felt breathless. She wasn’t sure if it was their kisses that had grown so heated or her racing thoughts and fluttering heart that was making her so dizzy.

She did know that Jughead’s hands were sliding from her waist down and over the curve of her bottom, pulling her toward him with unrestrained fervor as he grazed her lower lip with with his teeth. Betty moaned quietly against his lips, Jughead’s hands squeezed her in response.

They lay on the couch, just kissing for what seemed like forever. Eventually they had settled down, with Betty laying on the edge of the couch, Jughead’s arm curled around her as they napped.

She had woken to the sound of her phone buzzing. It was laying on the floor, Hotdog snoring softly beside it. Betty wiped the sleep from her eyes with one hand and reached for the phone with the other. It had only been a couple hours since the race, but she felt the most well rested she had in awhile.

Phone in hand she settled back against Jughead’s chest. Glancing back at him she marveled at his relaxed state when he was asleep. No frown, no tension in his eyebrows, his eyebags looked better. Her heart was swimming with a wash of delight at seeing him like this.

Betty smiled as she looked to her phone. There was a couple messages, but notably one from Veronica asking to meet her at Pop’s.

Chewing on her lip, she turned a little in Jughead’s hold. She nudged him with her nose, nuzzling his neck.

“Juggie, I’m going to meet V for a quick milkshake and then I’m going home alright?”

He mumbled sleepily and she nudged him in the belly with her elbow. Jughead cracked an eye open at that, lips twitching.

“Yeah, heard you. Milkshake, home. Just call me okay?” his sleepy and slightly confused voice was almost her favorite.

Betty smiled at him, pecking his nose and lips several times with short kisses. “Yes, of course. I love you.”

“I love you too, Betty.”

And so she wiggled out of his embrace and dropped a blanket overtop of him as he stretched out in the space made available. Hotdog gave a yawn, blinking at her.  Betty patted his head, running her fingers through his shaggy hair down his back.

“Don’t forget to make him feed you.”

“Hey, I heard that…” Jughead mumbled sleepily, swatting at her thigh.

Betty smiled, hand grabbing his and tucking it back to his chest.

“Bye, Juggie."

Later that night, her phone started to ring, as expected. Betty couldn’t help the smirk threatening to take over her face. The ring tone she had assigned to the unknown number making making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in response.

Their conversation went about how it normally did and then he asked for the name of the Sugarman. Betty’s hand clenched into a fist at her side. She held her resolve, kept her voice steady as she spoke about turning the name over to the police for real justice instead of facing the Black Hood’s execution.

“You’re playing a risky game.”

Betty shook her head, despite the fact he couldn’t see it. She walked to her window, looking out through the blinds to the empty street.

“Yeah, but it’s my game now,” her eyes scanned the dark points that the streetlights weren’t touching. Wondering if he was watching her. Her fingers twitched against the blinds.

“Which is what, Betty?” she could hear the indignation in his voice.

“A game that ends with me catching you.” Betty was confident, especially with her friends at her side. He wasn’t going to tear them or her, apart again.

“I found out who killed Jason Blossom. I found out who the Sugarman was,” Betty paused, letting her words sink in.

“You’re next, Black Hood. I’m breathing down your neck,” The inflection in her voice was unperturbed, chilling. She felt powerful; in charge of the situation.

“Can you feel it? ...Can you feel me?”

The phone clicked off and Betty let the smirk bloom on her lips.

Game on.

“Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyse you, they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.” — Bernice Johnson Reagon.

[serpentsong]

hidden talents-sweet pea x reader

Description: Sweet Pea shows up to support Fangs, finding out some secrets about his girl, Y/N.

Musician reader, Chef Sweet Pea?

Warnings: fluff, cursing, pasta?

A/N: As I’ve stated, I’m a sucker for domestic Sweet Pea so this is just gonna be a cute little thing. Plus, something about Fangs just screams artist. Feel free to send in requests! Imagine Playlist: Dorothy-Whiskey Fever Dorothy-Wicked Ones Dorothy-Raise Hell Dorothy-Dark Nights

---

Y/N’s POV:

Tonight was Greendale’s monthly art walk. I sat up my equipment in the back of the small alternative themed art gallery, which was really just my laptop and a CD. The owner, Dan, had asked me to perform tonight, and I couldn’t refuse. I wrote my own music, but no one really knows, except my best friend, Toni. Anyways, here I sat, going over my short list of songs for the night. I’m only going to be doing about 4 songs before someone else takes over. I started to go over plans with Dan and the other performers for tonight.

“Alright, so we’ll have Jess open it up, get everyone pumped, then Y/N, your rock and voice will keep the crowd moving, then we can close it out with Ann. Sound like a plan?” Dan asked. Various forms of ‘yes’ went around the little room. “Alright, good. Everyone get settled in, I’m gonna hang up the artwork. Feel free to help.”

With that, Dan walked through the curtains of his performance room into the main gallery. I finished what I was doing and decided to help him set up.

---

Meanwhile, back in Riverdale, Sweet Pea got ready to leave with Fangs and Toni. “So, what exactly is this thing, anyways?” Sweet Pea asked his friend. “It’s an art walk. So, there’s this little section in Greendale filled with different types of art galleries. At each, there’s live performances to tie to the theme. So, where we are will be alternative music because of the alternative style of art.” Fangs explained. “That actually sounds really interesting,” stated Toni, nodding in approval at her friend. They noticed the sun beginning to set, “Let’s ride.” Sweet Pea spoke, hopping on his bike, starting off, Toni and Fangs following right behind. ---

Jess was on her last song and the gallery was getting packed. I walked around, wearing shredded black jeans, a white Rolling Stones shirt, and a black leather jacket, examining the art. I noticed the label under a section of artwork read the name, “Fangs Fogarty. Riverdale.” I mentally cursed, hoping that he showed up after I finish. Luck was not on my side as I heard the motorcycle engines outside. I spotted three Serpent jackets and instantly recognized them as Toni, Fangs, and my boyfriend, Sweet Pea. Before they could see me, I bolted through the curtain, for the performance room.

“Alright guys, take a look around at the art and we will be back in about 5 to 10 minutes with some more music!” Dan excitedly spoke into the mic. I sighed, knowing it was time to face it. I walked out into the main gallery and saw the trio standing in front of Fangs section of work. “Man, these are good, Fangs.” Sweet Pea praised his friend. “Yeah, you’ve really got quite the artist in you.” Toni added. “Thanks guys, means a lot.” I could tell Fangs genuinely meant his response. Being in the Serpent's, a lot of times, they didn’t have time to do normal teenage things like this. It was nice to see the people closest to me so happy. I made my way over to them, standing next to Fangs, “I knew I recognized that name earlier.” Fangs jumped next to me, “Shit, Y/N, where the hell did you come from?” “Been here all day. The owner, Dan, one of his performers backed out, so he asked me to fill in.” The two boys looked shocked, but Toni smiled in delight. “I’m so glad you’re finally performing in public! Your own songs?” I bit my lip and nodded. Sweet Pea furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “You write music, babe?” “Yeah, just never really felt very confident about it. The only reason Toni knows is because she opened my notebook.” was my response. Toni and Fangs went to wander around, leaving Sweet Pea and I alone. “How come you never told me?” “I was going to, I just never felt very comfortable with it until recently.” He nodded at my words, seeming to understand. “So, what kind of music do you do, babygirl?” Just as he asked, the mic cut in from the back room. “The next performance is by a young lady from the town over, Riverdale. All original, ladies and gentlemen. C’mon up, Y/N.” I smirked up at him, tugging on his hand before letting go, “Come find out.” I rushed into the back room and he stood near the back with Fangs and Toni, easily able to see over everyone.

Dan started the first track, and I got through it with a breeze. The large and growing crowd really seemed to enjoy my music. Now, I was about to start my final song of the night. “Alright you guys, this next one is the last one from me tonight. The person this one is about is here tonight, but I’ll save him the embarrassment,” I winked, “Let’s get into it. Dark Night.” The track faded in

“Don't send me no angel This city's too cold Cause I need a man with a black heart of gold”

I could tell the beat of the song was getting people hyped.

“Don't give me no lover If he ain't got the stones Cause I need a man who will fight for his own” I started in with the chorus now,

“I've seen dark nights Whoa-oh, dark nights But only the darkest light can deliver my love I've seen dark nights Whoa-oh, dark nights But only the darkest light can deliver my soul”

I could see Sweet Pea smirking from here, as he was leaning against the wall in the back, watching me. I dove into the second verse, winking at him with a small smirk of my own.

“Can't take the fire 'Til you've fallen from grace Cause I need a man, a man who's got blood on his hands And the truth on his face”

I repeated the chorus two more times before the song ended and cheers and claps erupted around me as I walked off to the side. Dan took his place on stage and told everyone to prepare for the last performance. As I grabbed my laptop, Toni was the first to greet me, running over and engulfing me in a bone crushing hug. “That was so good! Ah!” I laughed and hugged her back, “Thank you Toni.” Fangs was right behind her and gave me a small, brotherly hug. “Who knew our Y/N could sing and write like that?” he chuckled. “Who knew you could paint and draw like that out there!” was my response. Fangs shook his head with a laugh, “Looks like we got two hidden talents within the group.” I laughed and nodded, looking a few feet behind him at Sweet Pea. “I’ll meet you guys out front, at your section.” I said quietly to them, heading over for my extremely tall boyfriend, who stood out like a sore thumb.

I wrapped my arms around his torso, looking up at him, waiting for him to say something. “Baby, you’re absolutely amazing.” he mumbled, taking my face in his hands and kissing me deeply. I laughed as he pulled back, “Sweets, now everyone in here knows that last song was about you.” He chuckled deeply, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, “I don’t care.” I threw my arm around his back as we walked into the main gallery to meet up with our friends.

---

The next day, I was on my way home from work, which was a small, run down cafe on the South Side. I lived with Toni in my mother's old trailer, but Sweet Pea was over almost every day and night. Tonight, Toni made plans with a girl she had been talking to, so she wasn’t going to be home. I pulled out my keys and opened the metal door to my trailer, tossing my bag on the floor and scrunching up my eyebrows when the smell of food hit my nose. I closed the door behind me, walking to the kitchen. Toni wasn’t home, and she doesn’t cook anyways. Who was in my home, cooking of all things?

I walked into my kitchen and the scene in front of me made me gasp. There was mister tall, dark, and handsome himself, cooking. “Pea, baby, what are you doing?” I asked, walking further into the kitchen. “You’re not the only one full of surprises, princess. I like to cook.” he said, setting a slotted spoon down on the center of the oven, turning to look at me. A small, genuine smile adorned his beautiful face. I loved seeing him like this, just happy. Like he didn’t have a worry in the world. It was a rare occurrence, to not see stress behind his happiness. I loved it. I loved him.

I leaned over the counter, my chin to my palm, “So, what’s cookin, good lookin.” I fought back a laugh as I waited for his response. A smile broke out on his face and he started laughing, “Well, I know how you love anything that has to do with pasta, so I made baked ziti.” I looked at him with a straight face and held a serious tone in my voice, “I love you.” He chuckled lightly, pulling down two plates from the cabinet, “I love you too.”

We sat down next to each other with plates in front of us. He stared at me intently, waiting for me to try his masterpiece. I took a fork full in my mouth, my eyes going wide as I finished the bite. “Sweets, I could marry you right now.” He chuckled with a smile, grabbing his own fork in his hand,

“Hopefully one day, princess.”

[ibriida]

@bombscheryl came into my IMs and very nicely asked for a starter. <3 What a cutie! Everyone is welcome to do this, btw. <3

“Well, well, well...” Ava began, her shoulder bumping Cheryl’s as she leaned in to examine her work, visibly impressed, lips donning a wide smile. “Who knew that the mighty Cheryl Blossom could draw? Got any other hidden talents that I should know about?”

[misfit-imagines-blog]

You’re Mine || Veronica Lodge x Male!Reader

Show: Riverdale

Request: Can you write a Veronica lodge x male reader smut where the two were dating but broke up and then someone else starts flirting with him and Veronica snaps and corners him in a room to show him who he really belongs to?

A/N: I put the “Male!” in the title because I feel like a lot of people see Veronica as a straight up lesbian and don’t want to mislead people into thinking that this is a GirlxGirl smut when it really is a Dom!GirlxGuy and I’m so sorry this took so long. Also, gif got deleted and I don't have my laptop currently since I'm in DC. As soon as I have my laptop, I'll put the gif back in.

Warning(s): Short, dominant Veronica and smut

Word Count: 

Veronica’s POV…

“So after class…” I didn’t hear a word Betty was saying. My focus was on (Y/N) standing in the corner of the student lounge with one of Cheryl’s little minions latching onto his arm. Her sickly sweet laugh and exaggerated movements bringing a grimace to land on my face.

I couldn’t really be mad though, he was no longer my boyfriend. It was no longer my place to get upset when another girl latches herself onto him but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop the feeling of anger and jealousy that brewed in the pit of my stomach.

“V, are you even listening?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Betty, I got a little distracted,” I smiled shyly at Betty while she looked back to see what caught my attention, “Why don’t go talk to him, V? You guys broke up in a spur of the moment and you never got to explain your side. Talk to him instead of torturing yourself by watching other girls flirt with him.”

“It’d be easier if I felt like he would take the time to listen to what I have to say,” I sighed and grabbed my back before walking away. I walked past him and tried to not let it show just how much his gaze impacts me.

And that’s how it’s been for two weeks. Awkward tension as I walk past him after a girl was shamelessly flirting with him- at school, Pop’s, everywhere- and I couldn’t take it anymore. Today he was alone; no girl hanging on his arm. My eyes followed his steady movements as he let his eyes roam around Pop’s until they landed on me.

“Hey, Veronica, can we talk?“ I had a blank face and nodded before standing up and letting him lead me away from my group of friends. But lone behold the girl looking for her chance at him right around behind him.

“Hey, (Y/N), what are you doing with her?” no one could pretend that she didn’t sound disgusted at the thought of me.

“We were about to leave so if you excuse us,” I grabbed his wrist and pulled him away before letting my hand fall away from his. He followed behind me as I lead the way out of Pop’s.

“What was that about? Veronica, don’t ignore me. What was that about?” by this point, we were outside and he was getting fed up with me not answering him. (Y/N) grabbed my arm and tugged me to face him. Without a sound, I cupped his face and kissed him. His hands, as if on autopilot, went straight to my waist and pulled me closer to him. And it wasn’t long before the kiss started to get heated, “C’mon,” his voice was deeper than normal as he pulled back just enough to talk. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his car, getting ready to drive who-knows-where.

“Where are we going?”

“My house unless you have somewhere else in mind,” I smirked and shook my head. The drive was short but that could be because I was thinking about what future events the night holds. I opened the door and walked towards his door with him walking slightly faster so he could open it. Once we were inside, we were picking up where we left off except this time, my legs were around his waist and he was walking towards his room. I could feel him lean me down against the bed and that was where I turned the tables and flipped us over.

“You’re not in charge tonight,” the smirk gracing his features paired with his hooded gaze was enough to make my knees weak. I pulled myself together enough to straddle his hips and smirk down at him.

“And why’s that babygirl?”

“Because you think it’s okay to flirt around in front of me knowing you’re mine,” I traced a finger down his chest, enjoying the way he shivered under my touch even through his clothes. I tugged the bottom of his shirt and let him sit up to pull it off and toss it across the room. In return, I pulled my shirt off and leaned my head down just enough to kiss him. My hands were placed gently on his collarbones, keeping him back enough so I could keep control.

I pushed him to lie down as I stood up and went to find a tie. When I did, I resumed my place on his hips and grabbed his hands before tying them together.

"What's this for baby?"

"I'm in charge tonight, love," I ghosted my hands along his arms as I leaned down and kissed down the side of his neck. I made sure to pause in certain places long enough to leave a mark. Smirking, I moved myself down his body until I was standing between his legs with my fingers curled under the waist band of both his jeans and underwear.

(Y/N) lifted his head to look at me and smirked as he lifted his hips to let me relieve him and his bulge of his jeans. I bit my lip when his member stood after I got his jeans off.

"Baby," I shivered at the whiny and seductive tone he used before I looked at him and leaned forward, with hand on his thigh anf the other gently grabbing his member.

"Hmm?"

"Fuck, Ronnie," his head fell back as I started to stroke his member. I knew what he wanted but I also wanted to hear him say it. In a swift movement, I stood back up and removed my bra before continuing my previous action, "Ronnie, I need you. Please, baby," his voice was breathy as he spoke and to say it didn't arouse me would be an absolute lie.

I sent smiled at him before standing up and removing the rest of my clothes and going to his nightstand to grab a condom. I removed the foil packaging and rolled the rubber onto him before moving so I was directly above him. Slowly, I let myself move down and felt him stretch me out as he entered. I heard him release low groan as I bit my lip and continued until he was as far in as possible.

Seeing him struggle with his hands being tied made me happy knowing I had control. Slowly, I started bouncing on him.

"Shit, baby," I started moving faster and he started to struggle more. I leaned down and kissed him hard as he started thrusting me. I broke the kiss to let out a moan as he continued thrusting up into me, "Baby, I'm close. Fuck," I circled my hips making his thrusts falter for a second. I could feel the burning knot in my stomach as I moved faster and without warning, I placed my hands on his chest and froze as the knot exploded and stars filled my vision. (Y/N) kept thrusting up into me before his head fell back and a loud groan fell from his lips. He continued to ride out our highs until I finally reached forward and untied his hands.

"You're mine, you know that right?" I asked cheekily as I got off of him to let him dispose of the condom. He let out a breathy chuckle as he walked back to his bed and pulled me to lay down with hin.

"Only if you're mine in return, got it?"

"Deal."

Holy hell I need holy water. Also, I hope you like it

~Ace~

[tricksters-captain]

FP Jones/Andrews family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 8

AN: I haven't completely proof read this so if there are any mistakes I’m sorry. 

(Part One)(Part Two)(Part Three)(Part Four)(Part Five)(Part Six)(Part Seven)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 3,973

Warnings: Well, FP is clearly older than the reader in this fic,

After the extra cheer practise on Sunday, you drove to the trailer park. You figured you had to see FP again after what happened yesterday just to make sure what happened actually happened.

“Back so soon?” FP teased you as he opened the door, he didn’t seem surprised by your visit. You had called him yesterday and told him you couldn’t stay there that night but he did expect you to come back round sooner than later. 

“I, um, I got bored?” You shrugged your shoulders, you didn’t want to say the real reason for your visit, it would just be like ‘Hey FP, just popping in to make sure we actually made out on your couch and I didn’t just dream it’

You noticed FP check out your gym kit, forgetting that you didn’t change from the yellow and white jersey and tight black shorts.

“Cheer practise.” You told him, entering the trailer as he stepped back to invite you in.

“On a Sunday?” FP cocked his brow at you.

“It’s the homecoming game this week, we have to be ‘perfect’.” You explained, mimicking exactly what Cheryl had said to you earlier that day.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll come along.” FP suggested, not entirely seriously, as he entered the kitchen. You immediately noticed the paint bucket and brushes on the side.

“Now I’d pay to see that.” You smirked at the older man, FP rolled his eyes and chuckled at you. You watched him pick up the paint brush and start painting the kitchen wall. 

“Speaking of homecoming, are you coming? It’s the reunion.” You asked, you knew that those kind of things weren’t exactly FP’s scene but you had some hope that he might come.

“Me at Homecoming? Nah, people wouldn’t want me there. Anyways, it’s not exactly my crowd.” FP told you,

“The Whyte Wyrm wasn’t my scene but I still decided to show my face.” You tried to persuade the man,

“That was on your own accord, and who cares, you fitted in there. Me and school dances haven't had a great past and I don't think me going to a reunion dance would be a great idea.” FP explained, you rolled your eyes but gave in. It was a shame, it would've been nice to see the serpent all dolled up in a suit and tie. 

Speaking of dolled up, you then noticed that FP wasn’t only painting the kitchen but had tidied the whole trailer. 

“Bit of spring cleaning or...?” You mentioned the cleaning, 

“I cleaned up a bit, I thought you might stay.” He admitted, dabbing his brush in the white paint before continuing to cover the walls, not even looking back at you. 

You bit down on your lip to contain the smile that threatened to spread across your face. 

FP cleaned up the trailer just in case you stayed there. 

You gazed at him for a few seconds in silence before picking up one of the spare brushes. 

“Can I help with this?” You offered, fiddling with the brush. 

“Not in that, go get one of my shirts.” FP gestured back towards his room, and you didn’t argue.

You pulled on one of FP’s henley shirts and laughed at how long/large it was on you.

You pulled the sleeves up and returned to give FP a hand.

You sang quietly to the radio as it played, swinging your hips to the music and painted any patches that the kitchen walls needed. 

FP kept sneaking glances your way, you were wearing one of his favourite shirts and it looked far better on you than it ever did him, at least that’s what he thought.

After you took a step back, believing you had finished, you noticed FP was still painting.

“Hey, you… uh, you missed a spot.” You told him, pointing to the non-existent missed place as you attacked his cheek with the white paint brush.

FP retaliated quickly by bringing his brush up and catching you on the forehead. You gasped and got him once more by dragging a thick line from his temple to his chin.

You squealed with laughter as he span around and caught you in his arm, pinning you against him as he painted over your face and neck. You bent back over his arm trying to get away from him and giggling hysterically, yelling that you surrendered.

FP placed the paint brush down and you leant forward, now that it was safe.

He snickered and placed his now free hand on the back of your head, you kissed him sweetly for a moment, biting down on your lip when you broke apart.

“God, you’re something else.” FP whispered, more to himself than to you.

You kissed him again, enclosing your arms around the man, FP placed his hands on your hips, and lifted you onto the countertop.

The week went by pretty quickly. It was mainly cheer practise, followed by decorating the gym for the homecoming dance and then avoiding your mom by going to Pop’s.

You didn’t visit FP throughout the week as often as you would’ve liked because he had things going on or something like that. But at the homecoming game there was a pleasant surprise...

You were usually one of the leads due to the fact that you were a senior and one of the best on the team but you didn’t expect to be the lead this week but due to the fact that Cheryl wasn’t liking Veronica at the moment, you were appointed it for the homecoming cheer.

You waved and wooed as you finished, the crowd went wild, you smiled brightly at everyone as your eyes searched the stands. You spotted Fred and Mary, sat together, both cheering at you and from the corner of your eye you spotted someone you never thought would show their face at a high school football game.

When you and the rest of the girls exited the field, that’s you snuck around the back of the stands to find FP stood underneath them, waiting for you.

“Wow.” He clapped as you approached. You shook your head at the man, staring at him with utter disbelief.

“What ar…? Why?” You could only managed to ask that as you were still in shock.

“I said I might come, didn’t I? You were right by the way, I’m glad I did come and see you in the whole getup.” FP referred to the conversation you had the first time you met there. His eyes shamelessly explored your cheerleader outfit and that’s when you decided to pick out the sudden change in looks that he had.

“You shaved.” You pointed out, FP’s hand shot up to his face and he rubbed his slightly shadowed cheeks.

“Yeah, uh, cleaning up the act for Jughead, remember?” FP reminded you, you smiled and folded your arms across your chest.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” You muttered quietly, FP held his hands up and shrugged his shoulder.

“You said you’d pay to see me here… so I guess that means you have to pay up.” FP reminded you, you smiled and continued to shake your head.

“With what?” You asked, cocking your eyebrow.

“I think you know what.” FP looked around but no one could see and even if they could, everyone was paying attention to the game.

You tugged on the fabric of FP’s shirt and pulled him even further out of eye sight then crashed your lips against his as payment.

The kiss didn’t last long since FP wasn’t stupid enough to do things that might give him a higher chance of getting caught.

“Damn, FP. Didn’t know you were going soft.” You teased the man, FP scoffed out a laugh and wagged his finger at you. 

“Who said I was?” 

He paused a moment, looking out to the field, his hands on his hips then looked back at you. “You looked great out there by the way.” FP told you,

“Thanks.” You felt your cheeks burn at the compliment and silently thanked god it was dark.

“But I think I like you better with the leather.” FP added as he started to walk away. You chortled and looked down at your feet for a second, then looked back up, catching his eyes.

“Maybe I’ll trade in my cheer uniform for a pair of combat boots and a serpent jacket then?” You called after him just as the crowds above erupted in a scream as the boys had obviously scored a point.

FP sent you one of his signature small smirks then disappeared, leaving you to return to the masses.

You didn’t hear from FP again until later the next day when he called to tell you that he was having dinner around the Cooper’s via invitation from Alice Cooper. He offered to drop you to the dance when he takes Jughead and Betty to which you obviously didn’t reject and you found yourself suddenly caring a lot more on how you were going to look for homecoming. However, you also found yourself curious to why Alice Cooper had invited Jughead and FP to dinner in the first place.

You weren’t stupid, you knew Alice was up to something, she was a journalist and on the case with Betty and Juggy to find out Jason Blossum’s murderer. You could have just been paranoid but you decided to trust your gut and confront Betty the day after to see if she knew the reason why. 

“Hey! Betty!” You jogged up to her in the gym, she was putting some of the finishing touches up for the dance that night. 

“Hey, (Y/n), what’s up?” She beamed a smile down at you, 

“Can I have a word?” You asked, 

“Yeah, sure.” Betty dismounted the ladder that she was halfway up and followed you to the corner of the gymnasium. You checked around to make sure Jughead wasn’t nearby and lucky for you he wasn’t even in the hall. 

“Look, a little bird told me that your mom invited FP and Jughead round for dinner tonight before the dance, I just wanted to check it wasn’t anything to do with the murder investigation.” You didn’t know how to put it any other way so you were straight up. 

“No, no, not at all. My Mom just thought it was a good idea for our families to blend since Jughead and I are together.” Betty wasn’t the best at lying and you knew she was hiding something but you chose not to pick her up on it.  

“Okay, well, remember to text me before you leave to go to the dance because I was offered to catch a ride with you, FP and Jughead.” You brushed it off, FP was grown man, he could handle himself and he was Serpent which means he could handle women like Alice Cooper. 

Before getting ready to go to the dance, you dropped in at FP’s trailer. Something that was slowly becoming a habit now.

You wanted to see if you could try and change his mind one last time about the dance. 

“Shouldn't you be getting ready or something?” FP asked as he opened the door. 

“Shouldn’t you?” You asked, you couldn’t help the pink that painted your cheeks as you were confronted by a half naked FP Jones. You were surprised you even managed to respond to him. 

FP was stood in just a towel, his hair dripping wet and his chest completely bare. 

You entered the trailer so that FP could close the door and keep the winter air out but in all honesty you needed to open a window with how hot you were getting as all the dirty thoughts you ever had about FP circled around your brain. 

“Everything alright?” FP asked as he shifted the towel slightly with his hand so that it wouldn’t fall down. You bit down on your lower lip and nodded your head, afraid that your voice might break as you stared at the prominent v-lines that disappeared down into the towel. “Is there a reason for the visit or did you just want to see me naked?” FP teased you as he went to return to his bedroom. You followed him like a puppy dog. 

“I came to see if I could convince to come to the dance one last time.” You managed to find your words whilst your eyes searched the back muscles of the man that continued to walk away from you. 

“The answer is still no, (Y/n).” FP stopped, scooping up his boxer briefs and then putting them on. 

You turned your head, looking away as the man dressed his lower half. Your face burning hotter than ever. 

“You sure I can't change your mind?” You asked, looking back now the man had some boxers and pants on.

“Pretty sure.” FP gave you a sideways look, his eyes running down your own body. 

“Fine. How about I meet you after the dance then? Somewhere more your sort of crowd? Like the Whyte Wyrm?” You suggested, FP smirked to himself as he pulled out a grey jumper from the closet. You sneaked closer to the man. “I can finally play you in the game of pool which you owe me.” 

FP tugged the jumper on over his head as he thought about your very convincing offer.

“Sure, the Whyte Wyrm after the dance but only after the dance. Don’t go leaving early because of me.” FP told you, 

“I promise I will stay until Archie’s sang and the I will meet you at the Whyte Wyrm and I will kick your ass.” You said as you reached forward and pushed the man’s damp hair back. FP had control himself from closing his eyes at the pleasure of your touch. 

“What we playing for?” FP asked, taking hold of your waist whilst your hands rested on his shoulders.

“Your Serpent jacket.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you spotted the leather poking out of the closet. 

“No way, you’ve already stolen my favourite shirt, I can't have you taking everything I own.” FP grinned, you laughed quietly and thought about what else he could offer you. 

“How about this then?” You pushed yourself up and captured the man’s lips. 

“Sounds good to me.” FP nodded his head. You noticed the clock behind him by the bed and reluctantly teared yourself away from the man. 

“I have to go because you need to get ready to go soon. I’ll see you before the dance.” You told him as you made your way slowly back to the door. 

“I would say save me a dance but...” FP shrugged,

“Well, there’s a jukebox at the Whyte Wyrm, isn't there?” You took him up on that offer. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, (Y/n).” FP sent you on your way and you rushed home to get ready. 

You sat in your window as you watched Jughead go outside to meet FP before they entered the dragons den. 

Archie had left early to practice or something so that left you alone in the house with your Mom and Dad, so naturally, you figured that spying on the Cooper household was better than spending any family time with them, well... with her. 

FP had looked up at your house but you knew he couldn’t see you. 

Now all there was to do was wait. 

You clutched your phone in your hand whilst you let your music play softly on your laptop. You had been ready for a while now, your hair all done perfectly, your makeup was the best you had done it for a while and your dress looked stunning on you. 

Everything seemed to be in place. You felt your phone vibrate and a text from Betty came through saying they were just finishing up. 

You pulled on your coat and made your way to the front door, sneaking past your parents who were eating their own dinner and chatting.

“Betty! Jug! Hey!” You crossed over to Betty’s front patio, next door to your own. Only you seemed to notice FP’s reaction to the way you looked. His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly, you could say he looked speechless.

“(Y/n), my gosh, you look beautiful!” Betty awed over your dress, and you thanked her. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to get something from the house.” Jughead excused himself for a second, and then Betty started heading towards FP’s truck, leaving you and FP both alone for a split moment. 

“You look... beautiful.” FP murmured as you both walked down the steps, slow enough to have a private conversation. 

“You don't look too bad yourself. Shame I didn’t get to see you in a tux tonight though.” You teased, 

“Believe me, you’re not missing much.” FP told you, you went to say something when Jughead rejoined you. 

“Come on, Betty doesn't like to be late.” He said, rushing past you. 

You watched him open the car door for you and Betty and you slid in first so that you could sit beside FP. 

The car was a tight squeeze but you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind being so close to FP and the other two didn’t think too much of it and so on you went. 

Meanwhile, whilst you were on your way to the dance, your little brother, Archie were about to discover something you never intended him to. 

“Find anything?” Veronica yelled through the trailer to Archie from the living room. 

“Not yet.” Archie called back as he closed the closet, he had dug around the room almost completely twice and FP was completely clean. He dug through his draws, lifting things, opening books and boxes and there was nothing that could link him to Jason Blossom or Hiram Lodge. 

“Keep looking.” Veronica told him, she was so set that there had to be something that connected her dad and FP and Archie knew this so he did his best to try and dig as deep as he could.

He lifted up a small tattered book from inside the bedside table and shook it to see if any paper would come out but all that fell from it was a polaroid picture. 

Archie knelt down and lifted it from the floor, turning it around to see what was on it. 

The air caught in Archie’s throat when he saw you and FP cuddled up in the photo. He tried convince himself that the picture could mean anything, anything at all, it didn’t have to mean that you were in any type of relationship but his head knew all too well that this was definitely something. 

His mind went back to Ms. Grundy, his infatuation with the music teacher and he tried so hard to relate this incident to that but all he felt was hurt and disdain. 

He couldn’t believe you. FP was Jughead’s dad! 

Archie had to sit down as he studied the photograph. 

The sound of Veronica dropping something next door brought him back to reality and Archie tucked the photo away in his pocket. He wanted to talk to you about it first before he spoke to anyone else, before he did anything. 

You pulled up outside the school and Jughead was the first one to exit with an umbrella ready for you and Betty. 

“Have fun tonight.” FP quietly told you as the younger couple exited the car. 

“Remember, Whyte Wyrm, save me a dance.” You whispered, winking at the man. FP had to fight every urge in his body to kiss you in that moment but fortunately you exited the truck.

“You be a gentlemen tonight, okay?” FP told Jughead, you took the umbrella from Jughead and headed up the stairs to the front doors. FP watched you until Betty brought him back to his senses. 

“He always is, Mr. Jones.” Betty assured him, 

“Betty, you mind giving us a minute?” Jughead asked, Betty, of course, didn’t mind and left the Jones family to talk. 

You walked around the gymnasium and picked out as many familiar faces as you could until you saw your dad waltz in with your mom and Hermione Lodge. You almost laughed at the trio, they made quite a group. 

One face you couldn’t find was Archie’s, you figured he’d be back stage getting ready to perform but something didn’t seem quite right. 

“Betty, have you seen Archie?” You asked as you approached her. She was staring at something and didn’t seem too happy about it. 

“Yeah.” Betty gestured ahead of you both to where her mom, Veronica and Archie all stood. 

You locked eyes with Archie and instantly could tell there was something up. 

“I need to talk to you.” Archie told you as you met in the middle, you wouldn't say no to something as serious as this sounded so followed him out into the hallway. 

“Do you wanna explain?” Archie pulled something out of his jacket and thrusted it into your hands. 

It was the polaroid of you and FP from the other week. 

Your mouth went dry as you looked up into Archie’s eyes. 

“Archie, where did you get this?” You asked, your voice low and calm. You were pretty sure you left the photo with FP so how did Archie get it?

“Ronnie and I searched FP’s trailer tonight in search of something that might connect him to her dad. You’re lucky I found this and Veronica didn’t.” Archie explained, your chin hit the floor, you couldn’t believe he broke into FP’s trailer. 

“Archie, breaking and entering is completely illegal.” You tried to change the topic of conversation, 

“Don’t avoid this. How long has it been going on?” Archie insisted you tell him. 

“Archie––”

“How long?!” Archie rose his voice, you dropped your head, clenching your jaw as you composed yourself. 

“Since Dad rehired him at the site. The night at the diner, I told him that I liked him, that I’ve always liked him and things went from there. It’s not his fault, he didn’t pursue me, he didn’t lead me on. I was the one to force this. Archie, you can't tell anyone.” You explained, shaking your head desperately. You never intended for anyone find out and now you didn’t know what to say. 

“How could you do this? He’s Juggy’s dad.” Archie pointed out the obvious there. 

“I don’t care. Do I need to bring up a certain music teacher, Archie? You have to understand. Out of everyone in this town, you are the only one who has to understand this.” You felt tears well up in your eyes, if this got out, there was no way in hell FP would ever see you again and there was no way your dad would let you stay anywhere near Riverdale for college. He’d send you straight to Chicago with your mom because you may be eighteen but he still had control over you and this town, this town would destroy you both if they found out. 

Archie closed his mouth, thinking about it. You faced away from the younger boy to hide the fact that tears were escaping from your eyes. 

“I don’t... I don't understand this but... but I won't say anything if that’s what you’re worried about. But you have to do the right thing, (Y/n). You have to end it before someone that isn't me finds out. Before Jughead finds out, before dad finds out.” Archie warned you, his voice calmer than before. He brushed past you to return to the dance, leaving you as you looked down at the polaroid that was crumpled in your hands. 

AN: Ahhhhhhhh! Archie knows! 

Part 9

Tags below

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[cooperjones2020]

What’s Past is Prologue, What to Come, pt. 6

Summary: He wanted to hit whoever made Betty cry. He wanted to hit Betty so she’d keep crying. Interrelated vignettes from Jughead Jones’s obsession with Betty Cooper. Dark!Jug, Creepy!Jug, Stalker!Jug, generally Sociopathic!Jug.

A/N: Complete :) There’ll be one more one-shot to tie-off the series posted on Friday. But it will be more along the lines of Marked than of this fic. Prepare yourselves, because Dark!Betty comes out to play.

TW: implied violence (for this chapter specifically, check the other tags on ao3)

(parts one / two / three / four / five)

ao3—> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394858/chapters/26675151

Every town has one. The house on the haunted hill all the kids avoid. Now that Jason was buried in the earth, it would only be a matter of time until something poisonous bloomed in that long, cold shadow cast by his death. Whatever grew in the rich black soil of the Blossoms’ garden always found its way to the town. Whether it was murder or love or secrets or lies.

He loved the murder board. He loved that Betty had touched every single piece of it. Earlier, when he was in the Blue and Gold office alone, he had run his fingers over every photograph, every scrap of paper, every tangled strand of red string, willing his fingertips to absorb the oils from her skin.

After the memorial, after Betty cornered her father about his conversation with Clifford Blossom, they returned to the office to regroup. He leaned back against a desk and watched her a few feet away from him as she grappled with the splintered fragments of her family.

“Juggie, I feel like I don’t even know who my mom and dad are anymore.”

“Betty,” he stood and moved toward the murder board. “If your parents lied about Jason and Polly, there’s probably more that they lied about.” He turned back to look at her.

“What do you mean?” She moved to follow him. He’d dealt with Trev, but now he wanted something from her. Some sign that they were in this together.

“Your dad said he would do anything to protect Polly. So the next logical question is, how far would he go to protect her?” He turned to the table in front of the board and grabbed an index card.

“Jughead, whoever broke into Sheriff Keller’s house and stole all his evidence wasn’t at the drive-in.” She looked at him with her big green eyes shining. He could imagine the look of the tears he knew she was holding back. “My dad wasn’t at the drive-in.” He handed her the index card and watched to see what she would do. With just a moment of hesitation, she pinned it right smack dab in the center, below Jason’s yearbook picture. God, he was proud of her. He pushed her over that barrier and she let him. He wanted to scoop her up in a hug and to devour her.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk to Polly.” Betty took a deep breath and gave him a wobbly nod. His heart slowed and beat thickly, as if submerged in maple syrup, as he watched her. The string between her and her parents was pulled taut. It would be easy to snip. It would be one more string he could hoard for himself.

On the first night he spent in the janitor’s closet at school, after the drive-in closed, the third thing he did was seek out Betty’s locker. He’d stolen a set of maintenance keys a few weeks ago and had a copy to the school’s front doors made, just in case. The drive-in had a cot, but it didn’t have a shower. And they’d stopped running water to the bathrooms at the campground when it had closed for the season on the first of September.

So the first thing he did was take a shower. The second thing he did was break into the cafeteria kitchen and scrounge up some dinner. Then he headed down the hallway with the science classrooms.

She’d had the same combination since sixth grade: Polly’s birthday. He rummaged through her locker for anything new, anything that could add to the store of Betty Cooper trivia he kept locked inside him.

He already knew about the Neosporin in the pink pencil box on the top shelf. But when he opened it, the tube was almost empty. It might have been that way for a while. There’s no way she’d used that much this early into the school year—she probably brought an old half-used tube from home anyway.  But still. He wanted to slice the scars off her palms.

He replaced the pencil box and reached for the stack of notes besides it. He unfolded their intricate shapes and pressed them flat before scanning each one. All from Veronica and Kevin. All useless.

“No one cares you can’t get dick, Kev,” he whispered under his breath as he struggled to re-fold the notes.

Then, he reached over her school books and slid his hand down the back wall of the locker to see if anything had fallen. But rather than the detritus of further notes and to-do lists he expected, he found two slim books. One, the worn copy of The Story of O he’d caught her reading a few weeks ago. He hadn’t believed the story she fed Cheryl about writing an exposé on book banning. So he pocketed it to look at later, in the luxury of his closet. The other, the small pink book he recognized as her diary. Jackpot.

It was only about a two-thirds full but the last entry seemed to be from a few days before — a description of her showdown with Archie outside Pop’s. Odd. She normally wrote in it every day. He flipped back to the first entry, the day she arrived in LA, and began to scan, until his own name grabbed his attention.

I finally got Jug to talk to me. He’s been avoiding me since I got back. I don’t know what happened with him and Arch over the summer — though it seems to be better now — but he better get it through his thick skull that Archie has no business in our relationship. Whatever Archie did to him doesn’t affect him and me. He looks skinnier. Last night at Pop’s, I convinced him I was full so he’d eat the rest of my fries. I wonder if he’d be offended if I offered to pack him a lunch. A lump formed in his throat that he didn’t understand. But when he turned the page, the rest of the entry devolved into a description of cheerleading routines.

A few pages later something else caught his eye:

I think some of my clothes have gone missing. If Polly were here, I’d swear she’d stolen them, but she’s not so that can’t be it.

Sometime around early September, mentions of Archie, and especially her feelings for Archie, had dropped off sharply. Simultaneously, her mentions of him had grown. He tried not to read anything into it. It was probably just because of the paper. He was around her more so of course she would think about him more. Write about him more.

But then,

Dear Diary,

It happened again. I’m losing time. I remember talking to Chuck at Pop’s and making the plan with Veronica and Ethel. But I don’t remember showing up at Ethel’s house. I don’t remember calling him Jason. And I don’t know where I got the black wig.

This hasn’t happened since I was in LA. I had hoped it was some freaky coincidence brought on by not enough humidity and too much green juice. I don’t know what to do or who I can even tell.

Who will I be if I let go?

Sometimes Jughead looks at me as if he knows.

That was it. She ended the entry and then the next one was about Archie and Grundy. Fuck.

Channeling all his darkness into his obsession with Betty Cooper allowed Jughead to maintain a thin veneer of normalcy. That she might be doing the same to him…

The needy beast of a thing in his chest roared to life.

Most days, he does a pretty good job at seeming normal. Well, not normal. Reggie likes to call him things like Donnie Darko and Wednesday Adams, but, still, he manages to keep most of his darkness on the inside.

But all of these days from the past swirl in Jughead’s mind as he lets himself into the Andrews’ garage and commandeers Fred’s ladder. The day he met Betty. The day Betty burned her arm making him cookies. The day she got grounded for losing her American Girl doll. The day he set Nancy Drew on fire. The first day he saw her topless. The day she drove away from Riverdale in a wood-panelled station wagon. The day she asked him to join her on the Blue and Gold. The day the drive-in closed. The day he found her diary. The day she went on a “date” with Trev Brown.

Polly had accidentally scratched Betty’s cheek when the orderlies were dragging her out of their hug earlier. Jughead spent the car ride home fighting the urge to lick the blood off her face.

She would pine after Archie. She would “date” Trev. She would kiss Veronica. But her darkness is his. Today, she will pick him. He has a plan.

She sits at her vanity, fingering her necklace and staring at the floor when Jughead gets to the top of the ladder beneath her window. He wraps gently on the closed glass and her head turns, ponytail whipping behind her. He can tell she’s surprised, but her face quickly gives way to a smile as she rushes over to open the window.

“Hey there, Juliet. Nurse off duty?” She steps back so he can climb in. “You haven’t gone full ‘Yellow Wallpaper’ on me yet, have you?”

Betty’s voice is rough, as if she’s been crying. “They’re crazy. My parents are crazy.”

“They’re parents. They’re all crazy.”

“No, but what if—what if Polly is too?” Betty stammers. “The way she was talking to me, the way she looked at me. And now all I can think is, maybe I’m crazy like they are.” She’s spiralling. Jughead puts a hand on shoulder and he feels some of the tension drain out as she sighs, as his touch does that to her.

“Hey. We’re all crazy.” He looks into her eyes, willing her to know what he knows. To know they’re alike. She smiles at him and looks at the floor.

When he speaks, her eyes drift back up. “We’re not our parents, Betty. We’re not our families.” He might be imagining it, but he thinks her eyes pause on his lips on their journey back to the floor. “Also—”

“What?” she whispers. She stares into his eyes again as he flicks his gaze all over her face. “What?” she asks again, louder. She smiles at him with half of her mouth and raises one eyebrow.

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. When she doesn’t pull back right away, the monster inside him cheers. Then when she kisses him back, he sighs and it settles into a contented purr.

She breaks the kiss, “The car!”

He smiles at her and raises his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s what you were thinking about in the middle of our moment?” If he hadn’t just felt the insistent pressure of her lips against his own, he’d be more upset. But he knows, better than anyone now, how Betty’s mind works.

“No. Polly talked about a car Jason had stashed for them down Route 40. Near some sign? If we can find it, we can confirm Polly’s story.”

“Well, one way or another.”

“I need to know, Juggie.” Then she leans forward and presses another soft kiss against his lips. He’d do anything for her. He’d kill for her. Of course he’ll go looking for the damn car with her. Because now, he’s got her. He’s finally got the real life Betty doll.

[mylittlebubbles]

The Funeral // Archie Andrews

Y/n blossom is the youngest sister of the blossoms everyone attends to her brothers funeral and later as a panic attack. Archie helps her and then later when she goes to the hospital they admit their feelings for each other. Sorry if this is to much. Thank you to @glitterytreewombat for this request! You're so sweet! 💕 *** Today was the day. A day in which I never wanted to happen. Or even believe it could be happening. I stood in my room, staring into my full length mirror and studying the simple long sleeved black dress that was on me, looking towards my face to see the sadness right through the make up. I couldn't believe my brother was gone. Dead. There was no way in bringing him back, even though I desperately want him to walk into my room and hug me like he used to, making sure I was okay like he had since we were little. The three of us, Cheryl, Jason and myself stuck together, now only Cheryl and I had each other, we had lost half of ourselves, and we both didn't know how to fill that void. I sighed, hearing a knock at the door to see my mother sticking her head in. 'Come now, it's time to welcome everyone.' She was so curt about it all, it only made goosebumps appear on my arms, making the hairs stand up. I nodded, exiting my room, my mother closing the door behind us. She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, leading me down the stairs. 'Where's Cheryl?' I asked, looking to see people already arriving into our home. 'She's still upstairs getting ready. She'll be down soon.' My mother answered, leading me to my father. 'I trust you know she's not speaking today at the funeral and that you are.' I frowned at my mother and nodded, not arguing on the topic of it. Cheryl had already let Homecoming happen with representing Jason using it to her advantage, which made sense why my parents wouldn't want her to speak, but, he was her brother too. I turned my head to see my friends arrive, a blush rising to my cheeks due to locking eyes with Archie. I excused myself from my parents and walked over to Betty, Veronica, Kevin, Jughead and Archie, who had all dressed appropriately, even Jughead. Although, I did question Archie's letterman jacket, but he wore a tie underneath so I ignored it. 'Thank you for coming guys...it means a lot.' I gave them a small smile, receiving a small hug from all of them, except Jughead. I held onto Archie the longest, knowing he could make me feel better with what was happening today. 'We couldn't not support you. You're our best friend, we're here for you.' Betty smiled, whilst I led them to the room where Jason's casket laid. I stopped in my tracks, seeing it for the first time. A large sorted set of red roses sat on top of the casket, making my eyes glisten that this was real. I instantly felt Archie grip onto my hand, holding me up so I didn't fall. I turned up to look at him, giving his hand a squeeze, making sure he was still there. He squeezed it back, leading me over to the front row. He sat me down, kneeling down in front of me and showing me the number 9 jersey. Jason's jersey. 'You're family deserves this more than me.' Archie explained, holding it out to me. 'You should go give it to my mother, she'd appreciate it.' I smiled, watching him walk away. I sighed, checking my watch and looked around, my sister nowhere in sight. I bit my lip in anxiousness, my eyes drifting to the coffin. I took a deep breath in and letting it go. Archie sat down beside me again, looking a little confused and flustered. 'What's wrong?' I frowned. 'You're mom...she - she touched my hair - I don't know.' He shook his head, staring at me. 'Are you okay?' 'With you...and the other guys here, I'm okay.' I answered, hearing the music staring. Cheryl still hasn't arrived, making me grown more nervous to where she was. It wasn't until I saw everyone else's heads turn backwards, watching something behind them. I followed their gaze, my mouth falling open in shock, seeing her in the same dress she wore when she was last with Jason. I gasped, feeling Archie grab my hand again. I couldn't believe she actually wore the dress. A hand flew to my mouth as she made her way to the podium. Our parents looked at her in anger and frustration, ready to take her away from the podium. Veronica stopped them, saying they'd only make things worse. I watched on, see her standing there. She gave me a look, telling me she had this under control. I didn't. I felt like I was staring to lose control. I could feel my vacant hand shaking, hoping if I clenched it, something good will come out of it, maybe stopping it, but that wasn't the case. I shook my head, trying to pay attention to what my sister was saying, but nothing was happening, I couldn't listen, everything else felt so loud. 'Y/N...' I turned my glossy eyes to Archie, seeing worry in his features as he looked at me. 'What's wrong? What's happening?' 'Y/N, dear.' Before I could answer Archie, my mother called me to the stand after Cheryl's breakdown at his coffin. I slowly stood up, my eyes never leaving the coffin as I turned around, facing the whole of Riverdale. I sighed, beginning to speak. 'Thank you to everyone that has found the time to pay respects to my brother and our family in this difficult time,' I swallowed hard, feeling my heartbeat starting to pick up. 'Jason was not just your football star or the most popular kid in school, he was my brother,' I paused looking at Cheryl who was still crying, 'our brother. He cared for us, his two little sisters. He protected us from any harm or any hatred we had to endure...he was my hero...' I turned my head around, staring back at the coffin in which Jason laid to rest in. I felt my breath starting to pick up, gripping the sides of the podium, causing my knuckles to go white. I began feeling lightheaded, everything in the room becoming louder by the second. 'I'm sorry - I can't do this.' I sprinted down from the podium and out of the funeral. I needed somewhere to go, I needed to breathe. I was going to have a panic attack. I managed to find one of the many corners outside from my large house to sit in, placing my head in my hands, letting panic takeover my body. If I could tell you the amount of times someone has asked me what it felt like, I couldn't. A panic attack for me, you feel a heaviness on your chest, caving in and can't find any air to breathe in, because your already hyperventilating, you already feel like you're going to die. In that moment, you sometimes wish that you could. 'Y/N!' I heard someone call my name. I lifted my head up to recognise Archie through my blurry vision. I was still hyperventilating, seeing him kneel in front of me. He tried picking me up off of the ground, but all I did was grip onto his biceps, hoping to gain feeling back in my body since I couldn't feel my legs or get up. 'Oh god...' Archie knew I experienced them and had been there a few times when I've had them, but it's never been this bad. 'You're okay. It's just a panic attack, it'll pass alright, hun? Trust me.' He reassured, holding me to his chest. 'I-I can't breathe!' I felt like I was choking, I felt like I was going to pass out, feeling Archie holding me tightly and gripping onto my small, frozen hand. 'Archie, what's happening?' I heard a voice ask, which sounded like Veronica's. 'She's having a panic attack...I've never seen one this bad, V.' 'What do we do?' 'Call 911.' Archie said, looking back down at me in complete worry and sadness. 'Archie...' I choked out, 'I wanna - I wanna go to sleep...' 'You gotta keep your eyes open for me, alright?' He whispered, pecking my forehead. He rested his forehead against my temple, staying close and letting me know I was still there. 'Keep squeezing my hand, what does it feel like? Can you tell me what it feels like?' 'I - I can't do it...' I cried out, feeling nothing in my fingers at all. 'Yes you can, breathe and squeeze my hand, alright? The ambulance is coming.' He reassured me, still holding my hand. I was full on sobbing now, trying to control my breathing, but it wasn't happening. I was having a panic attack. And I felt like I was going to die. 'Archie, the paramedics are here.' Veronica said, seeing to guys in uniform behind her, along with Sheriff Keller, my friends, my parents and Cheryl. 'Alright, sweetheart, Y/N, can you feel anything that I'm doing now?' One of them asked, touching my foot. I sobbed, shaking my head. 'She's going into complete shock, lets get her in the ambulance.' Archie stood up, picking me up bridal style and carrying me towards the ambulance. I felt the worst of it ending, but now felt extremely tired. I wanted to go to sleep or pass out, I wasn't sure which one. Archie laid me out on the stretcher bed. I looked to see my friends and Cheryl watching me, no sign of my parents anywhere. I felt my eyes dropping, ready to let darkness consume me. 'Who's riding with her? Are you son?' Archie looked down at me, looking back at the officer. 'Yeah?' 'And you are?' 'I'm...I'm her boyfriend.' He said with confidence. They let him in, closing the ambulance door behind him. Archie grabbed my hand, looking down at me. I gave him a tired smile, before feeling my eyes shut, darkness consuming my vision. ** I woke up, seeing myself in a not very familiar place. I looked around to what looked to be like the emergency department of the hospital. I frowned, looking to my right to see the beautiful auburn hair of Archie. 'Hey, how you feeling?' Archie whispered, his hand tucking a kiss strand of hair behind my ear. 'Tired...thank you for being here with me.' I gave him a small smile, making him chuckle a little. 'No - I couldn't bare to see you in that state, I didn't know what else to do.' He sighed, grabbing my small hand, sending warm up through my arm. 'You did everything right.' I smiled, feeling a stray tear trickle down. 'Along with saying that you were my boyfriend.' He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 'I didn't know how else I was going to get in the ambulance...you're not mad, are you?' He asked. I motioned him closer with my finger, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, bringing him to my lips. It felt complete. I felt complete. I pulled away, looking into his brown orbs. He cheeks were a tinge of red, smiling at me. 'You're okay with being my girlfriend, right?' I nodded, smiling at him. 'Of course Archie, I've been waiting for a while to hear those words for a very long time.' He grabbed my hand again, closing it around his and pecking it, holding it close to his lips. 'Can you handle my baggage?' I asked, worried to hear the answer. He smiled, nodding, putting my nerves at ease. 'Of course I can. I love all the good and bad, anything for you.' I smiled, giving out a small laugh. Tags: @doctorwhoandrory @mistaken-destiny @sweetwater-cheryl @sweetvengeancee

[bugheadcentral]

Title: Final Moments

Pairing: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones

Gifset:@jemmablossom

Story: @easyminds

A/N: This one shot story is about the week leading up to Jughead leaving to go to Toledo, due to the fact his father is in jail and that there is no parental guardian to take care of him legally in Riverdale, Child Services is sending him to go live with his mom. The story will be written via ‘days’ and will show the last moments of Betty and Jughead together before he has to leave.

Day 1

In the dim light from the cold windows of the Blue and Gold sat Jughead. He was tapping the space bar on his laptop, debating what the next brilliant sentence should be to end the chapter’s cliffhanger of his novella. He was so involved in figuring our the right synonym for the word disturbance that he didn’t notice Betty opening the doors and walking towards him with a coffee until she placed it down beside him.

“Working on the new chapter yet?” She asked with interest as she sat down in a chair across from him.

Jughead sighed with displeasure. “No..” he picked up the coffee with a side smile and took a sip of it before leaning back into his chair. “I am stuck with the last sentence..”

“Still?” she tilted her head and raised her left brow.

Jughead slowly nodded. “Yeah, I just can’t get it right. I thought I had it this morning but at lunch I was re-reading the chapter and it didn’t give the shock factor that I wanted. So I am re-working it..” he took another drink from the cup. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Betty smiled and pressed her lips together. “You’re welcome, Jug.” she stood up and walked over and gave him a kiss on the side of his face. “I hope it helps with the creative process.”

Jughead kept a small smile on his face. “Who knows. If anything it will keep me warm on my walk back to Archie’s” he leaned forward and saved his file 3 times before shutting off his laptop and closing it.

Betty took a small step back and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Not going to stay a bit later today?” Her thumb softly rubbed his shoulder.

Jughead put the laptop in his backpack and looked up to her before he started to stand, her hand on his shoulder not leaving it’s welcomed place. “Nah. It hasn’t been as mentally productive for me as it normally is.” he put the bag on his shoulder. “Besides, I’d like to walk home with you today, if that’s cool.” he smiled.

Betty tilted the side of her head into her shoulder and smiled before fixing the strap of her purse onto her shoulder better. “I’d love that.” She walked forward and started walking with him out of the Blue and Gold. As the door closed behind them, their fingers slowly entwined with another until they were holding one another’s hand.

As they walked down the side-walk and the sky was transitioning into twilight, Betty leaned her head onto his shoulder.

“Hey, Jughead...” her voice got softer. “How would you feel about going to a musical with me tomorrow night...” she turned and looked up at him, his expression giving away his thoughts on the subject.

“A musical? Betty, Grease isn’t a great depiction of High-Schools these day’s you know that right?”

Betty brought her head up from his shoulder and swung their joined hand forward playfully and defensively. “First of all, Grease is a very catchy musical. Second, I was thinking of a musical more your speed! It’s called Heather’s and I really think you’d like it! It has a sarcastic edgy teen and a girl who was an outcast who ended up becoming apart of the popular girls and it has the whole Mean Girls vibe but darker and-” she glances and see’s Jughead smiling at her effort with trying to get him interested. She swallows and looks to the side a bit shyly. “- and I just thought that it would be nice to go on a date by doing something different so we could have a new moment to remember before you-” he squeezed her hand.

“Before I leave to Toledo..” Jughead’s eye’s were focused on her and he had a soft, heartbreaking smile across his face. He kept squeezing her hand.

“Yes...” She nodded and her feet stopped walking. “But! I understand if you wouldn’t want to go to a musical, too bad the drive-in wasn’t still open we could maybe watch the old movie spin-off I know you would enjoy that better.”

“Betty, you are rambling.” he turned his upper body to face her.

“I know.” she sighed and her shoulders lowered as she exhaled. “It stops me from thinking about you leaving when I just keep talking...”

Jughead studied her face, it was hard to see her so obviously consumed by something that was also consuming his everyday thoughts. Truth be told, the reason why he couldn’t finish the chapter wasn’t because of finding the perfect sentence. But because of everything else. His dad staying in jail, not being able to stay and finish the school year at Archie’s, and yes, he was looking forward to seeing Jellybean. But he and Betty were just starting to get into a good place again, and now space was forcefully being put between them.

“What time do we have to be at the theatre for this musical?”

Betty’s eye’s widened and the smile was back on her face. “7pm! Though, we have to dress up a bit for it. It’s a formal theatre house and-”

“Alright. I will pick you up at 6:15pm, I can work out a ride for us. I’m sure Fred wouldn’t mind.”

“Are you sure? I can always ask my mom-”

“I’m sure.” he squeezed her hand and gave her a side grin.

Betty softly smiled back. She lifted up both her hands and cuffed his face. “Thank you.” she felt her stomach sinking. This was going to be their last nice date, this might be the last time she see’s Jughead with his hat on and a suit jacket....

“Betty?” Jughead raised a brow.

Betty snapped out of her train of thought and breathed in and moved herself forward and placed her soft lips against Jughead’s slightly cold one’s. He closed his eye’s and leaned into her before they parted.

“Thank you for walking me home. See you tomorrow, Jughead.” Betty slid her hand down the right side of Jughead’s arm and held his hand again before turning to leave.

Day 2

Betty stood looking at herself in her bedroom mirror. She was wearing a black dress with a black cardigan. She was trying to go for something that might make her look like she matched with Jughead, but she just felt like she was going to Jason’s funeral again.

“Aagh!” she exhaled loudly as she fell back onto her bed. Staring up at her ceiling. “Why am I so nervous about this.....” she brought her hand up to her heart and just as she felt her heart beating, she heard the doorbell rang and in a matter of seconds she was off her bed and heading out of her bedroom door.

Jughead was let in by Alice, who was just about to open her mouth when Betty gracefully came down the steps. Her face a bit flushed.

“Hey, Betts.” Jughead smiled, his hands in his pockets. He started to look her over, making her feel more nervous yet again.

“T-too much? I was trying to match you but I just feel like I-”

“Look like you are going to a funeral?” Jughead finished her sentence.

“Yes...” she brought her hand up and put some hair behind her left ear.

Alice shook her head. “Dear, do what we are all thinking and go put on something less drab and dreary.” She glanced at Jughead’s tie. “Maybe something blue.”

Jughead looked down at his tie, not thinking Alice would notice or suggest to have Betty wear a colour he was already wearing.

“I’ll be right back Juggy!” she went back up the steps, quicker and with purpose as she sprung into her room. Her face red and her heart pounding.

Within moments Jughead was holding the door of Fred’s truck open for Betty to let her in as he followed by hopping in after her.

Betty turned and smiled at Fred. “Thank you, Mr. Andrews for driving us to the theatre tonight.”

Fred put the truck out of park and into drive as the vehicle started to move forward. “Oh it’s nothing Betty. I’d rather you both get there safely. Least I can do.”

As they drove through town they all shared some small talk, all equally avoiding the subject of Jughead leaving to Toledo in a few days. Once Fred pulled up to the side walk outside of the theatre, Jughead got out and opened the door for Betty. Taking out an umbrella for her since it was sprinkling a bit this evening.

“Thank you, Jughead.” Betty smiled and wrapped her shawl on her shoulders. She turned and looked at Fred. “And thank you, Mr. Andrews for the drive again.”

“No problem. You kids enjoy the play and call me when it’s over. I can come and drive you home.”

“Thanks Fred.” Jughead smiled.

“Go, enjoy those musical numbers!” he waved them off as Jughead closed the door and Fred drove away.

“Well!” Jughead turned and looked at Betty. “Shall we go and partake in the teen drama that is going to be re-enacted via musical tellings?” He held the umbrella above them and reached out his arm for Betty to take hold of.

Betty laughed softly and took his arm. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Day 3

The next evening Betty and Jughead were at Veronica’s house having a movie marathon with Archie and Kevin not really watching the movie’s more so just talking and eating food. The two of them laughing about their date the other night, and how everyone didn’t expect Jughead to go to a musical of all things.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jughead stuffed a chip into his mouth. “Music aside and maybe some tweaking it could be a pretty good book.” He smiled and put his arm around Betty.

Betty smiled and leaned into him, laughing a bit. “I don’t know what was better, you’re narration during the musical or your critiques after on the drive home with Archie’s dad.”

Veronica laughed and then perked up. “Oh, that reminds me of this story. Okay so I was with my mom and on our way to go watch a great Broadway show we-” while Veronica continued talking with Kevin eating up every word she was saying, Jughead patted Betty’s back lightly and he stood up, walking out into another part of the house. At first, to grab some more food but on the walk to the kitchen, he just stared at the assortment of snacks rather than filling himself up a plate.

After it was clear that Jughead wasn’t coming back as quick as she had expected, Betty got up and walked her way over to meet him. She peered into the kitchen, and saw his face. He looked so drained. She walked over to him, before she could open her mouth, he turned and looked at her.

“Can’t decide between the mini dogs or the mini burgers. Personally, I’d rather have the mini removed from the equation and just have full sizes of both.”

“I’ve seen your food thinking face before, and what you are wearing isn’t a food deliberating one.” She reached her hand out and softly held Jughead’s hand. Rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand. “What’s wrong, Juggy?”

He exhaled and looked at her small figure before bringing his eyes up to hers. “I can’t stop thinking about Toledo... and us..”

“Oh..” Betty pressed her lips together and swallowed.

“Yeah... not the best upbeat conversation topic. Believe me, I know.” he squeezed her fingers in his palm. “Listen can we, take a walk and talk or something?” He sounded pleading.

Betty nodded intently. “Of course, I’ll just text Veronica that we are taking a walk. I’d rather not interrupt their conversation or the vibe of enjoyment they have going on.”

“Good idea.” they let go of one another’s hand and Betty brought out her phone to message Veronica, while doing so they walked out of the kitchen and down another hallway in the house towards the front door to grab their things to leave.

Once they were outside, they were in silence for a bit. Both thinking equally and intently of what they wanted to say. They soon found themselves in a park.

Jughead opened his mouth first to break the silence. “Betty I-” He found his hand being squeezed quite strongly and Betty moved herself to stand in front of him.

“Sorry, can I..” she breathed in. “Can I go first? Please?” she took his other hand and massaged the back of his hands with both her thumbs.

He nodded. Unsure of if he really wanted to go first anyways. “Yeah, go head.”

Betty smiled so softly and beautifully that he thought her smiled could inspire the next great artist to make it into a master piece. “I need you to know that, as much as I’d wish for you to stay here, with us, with me... that I think it is important for you to get this chance to see your mom and talk to her about what is going on.” she looked down at their hands. “Jellybean also needs you, I am sure and you need her. So evening though I don’t want you to go... I think you need it.” her heart started to beat faster. “I also don’t want to sound selfish in this, because it isn’t about me. It’s about us, and more importantly Jughead, it is about you.”

Jughead stared at her. He felt his stomach twisting and tying itself into knots. He knew they were breaking up, he didn’t want them to break up. But the tone of this conversation made him feel like they were. “Betty...”

She exhaled and breathed in again. “I’ll miss you. That is an obvious fact that won’t go away until you can come back. Back to Riverdale, back to me... But I also believe in us, Jughead.” she brought her hands up to his face and carefully touched him as though if she did he was going to disappear into thin air in front of her. “I’m stubborn and I will keep working to keep things between us working even when we are far apart. I can come visit you, especially in the summer. We can call one another, text, e-mail, even writing letters and go the snail mail route.” He laughed a bit and that made her more confident in what she wanted to say next. “I know things will work out. I’ll tell you everything, even details you might not care about because I don’t want you to worry about me, or second guess anything while you are gone. Because I-” she swallowed and felt her chest rise and the blood rush to her cheeks. “-I love you, Jughead.”

Jughead felt his heart stop and suddenly start up again. His eye’s studying Betty’s face, how her eye’s looked at him so deeply and locked onto his. She looked so fragile yet confident in everything all at the same time. He just stood there, standing and staring at her until he moved a hand up to grasp onto one of her wrists, bringing it down slowly beside him and turning it over to looked at the scars on her palm.

“Betty bit her lower lip, getting nervous over the fact he wasn’t saying anything. Had he heard her? She was positive he did. It wasn’t like she whispered it into her chest. “Jughead?” and as swift as a small breeze she felt herself being pulled into Jughead’s person. His arms wrapped so tightly around her and his head placed beside her’s. Through this contact she could feel his chest pounding. She wrapped her arms around him and dug her face into his shoulders.

They just stood there, breathing in and taking one another in. On the outside it looked like seconds, but to them they felt like time had stopped just for that one moment.

Jughead carefully pulled away, holding into Betty’s shoulders. His nose was red and his cheeks a bit pink. “I’ll send you copies of each chapter I write. As well as a list of movies you should watch while I’m gone so when we meet up or talk over the phone, we can talk about them.” he glanced her over. “I’ll save some money so I can come and visit you, so it’s not just on you to make the effort. I might even bring Jellybean if my mom will let me, I’m sure Jellybean would like to meet you. I want you to meet her.”

Betty smiled with water reflecting in her lower eyelid. “I’d like that, a lot.”

“And tell me about your problems when we talk, if you feel like you are in a bad place..” he took one of her hands and kissed her palm where the self harm scars lay. He looked back at her, squeezing her hand. “Tell me, I want to be your support net...Because I.. I care so much about you, Betty. I would hate to know you are in a bad place while I’m gone.”

She nodded and was about to cry but she breathed in and kept a smile on her face and her head held high. “You too, Jughead. I want to do the same for you when you need it.”

He smiled and brought her in for another hug. His arms wrapped around her waist this time. He felt his heart race as he leaned into Betty’s neck. Giving her a quick kiss before whispering into her ears two words and feeling Betty’s face get warmer.

They leaned back slowly, and placed one another’s foreheads against each other. Just standing there in the brisk night atmosphere as they closed their eyes and held one another’s hands.

Day 4

A day had passed since Jughead and Betty shared an intimate moment in the middle of a park at night. It was now the last day that Jughead was going to be at school, the last day that they would sit together on the couch and talk with their friends side by side. They both felt strong and the talk they had helped cement that strength in place, yet it was still hard and Betty just wished they had one more day.

When the school bell rang, Betty had told Jughead she would meet him at Pop’s for one last evening together after he got to get everything ready at Archie’s and properly hang out with him and Fred for one last man’s night. Jughead agreed and she kissed him on the cheek as they parted ways.

The neon lights and colours of Pop’s wrapped around Betty’s figure as she walked into the dinner. There Jughead was already waiting, with a smile on his face and a milkshake in front of him.

Betty wanted time to slow down, as she only had a couple hours with Jughead until he had to catch his bus to Toledo. However, time did the exact opposite. It went by too fast, and before Betty could finish her milkshake, which she was not really wanting to finish as she felt that if it was gone, so would their time be in this booth, Jughead had to leave to go back to the bus station.

However, before saying good bye for now, Jughead took Betty’s hands, placed something inside her palms and immediately wrapped his fingers over top her’s and kissed them. Squeezing her hands tightly. Asking her to not open her one hand until she was home.

Betty gave a small nod before they got out of the booth and went outside. Fred was waiting in his truck to take Jughead to the station. They both hugged one another one last time, and gave each other a kiss before she waved him good bye. Squeezing onto what ever it was Jughead had given her.

That night, after Betty got home she went into her room, sat on her bed, and opened her hand.

In her hand was a small and dainty necklace. It looked used worn down, but she didn’t care about that. Betty started to cry as she looked at the small little crown pendant that was on the chain. Her heart and stomach had butterflies in them as she walked over to her mirror and put the necklace on.

Things were going to be okay.

They, were going to be more than okay.

Because if Betty Cooper believed in anything, it was in Jughead Jones.

[certifiedskywalker]

My Anchor - Archie Andrews

@bxllasanosa said:

HI! LOVE YOUR IMAGINES SO MUCH! Can I request an Archie imagine where Y/N and him have been on a few dates and really close. One day, he asks her to come watch him on the upcoming variety show, she eventually accepts. And when it's Archie's turn, he's nervous but he sees her in the audience and they smile at each other. And after the show, they meet backstage and just PURE FLUFF. Sorry if it's long. And tag me when it's out? :))

The Earth shifted when you started to date Archie Andrews. Everything about your budding relationship was easy, nothing too forced. You got along so well because you had been friends before you started your romantic relationship. You were very open with each other when it came to sharing how you felt. With Riverdale High School’s big variety show coming up, you and Archie had been focusing on his songs and supporting him. You would listen to him sing, loving every moment of it. Sadly, without a musical background, you couldn’t help him every much other than giving him support. He called on Valerie to aid him with his composition and you feel a little jealous.

You had only been on a few dates with Archie yet you found yourself falling for the talented boy more and more each day. The night before the big variety show, Archie invited you over to listen to the final draft of the song. You walked over to his house, conveniently not far from yours, and was greeted at the door by Fred.

“Oh, hello Y/N. Come in,” you smiled at Archie’s dad and walked into the house. “Archie’s up stairs getting his outfit soredt out for the big night.” You smiled at Fred, he always seemed happy to see you. You made his son happy, so how could he not be pleased.

“Is he nervous?” Your voice was quiet but Fred heard it. He nodded and you walked to the foot of the stairs. “I’ll go see if I can help,” you said and Fred gave you a smile. You walked quickly up the stairs and down the hallway to Archie’s room. You knocked lightly on the door and waited for the all-clear.

“Come in,” you smiled when you heard Archie’s voice and walked through the door. Archie’s face lit up when he saw you. “Hey babe,” he said, walking towards you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You blushed at the action, despite him having done it before. Your arms wrapped around his middle and you smiled at his warmth.

“Need any help?” He let out a chuckle as he pulled back to look at you.

“You don’t think I can dress myself?” You smiled at his teasing and he grinned. You tangled your fingers with his and walked towards his bed. He had laid out a nice pair of jeans and his favorite pair of sneakers. You let out a small giggle and Archie smiled.

“Going shirtless?” You gestured to the empty spot on his bed where a shirt would go. Archie’s smile widened and a glint of mischief shown in his eyes.

“I thought you’d like it,” you let out a laugh at his words. You leaned up a pressed a kiss to his cheek. When you pulled away, a soft smile rested on his kissable lips. Your eyes moved from his lips to his eyes and you saw that he noticed your glances. You swallowed hard, turning around to break the tension. Despite the many dates you went on with Archie, neither of you had kissed the other’s lips or uttered those three words.

“We should find you a nice shirt,” you whispered. You let go of his warm hand and walked over to his closet. You pushed through the hangers holding old shirts, looking for the right one. You smiled when your eyes landed on a nice blue button up. You unhooked the hanger and turned around. You carefully set the shirt against Archie’s chest, earning a smile from him. Your hands smoothed out the material against his chest and his hands stopped your actions. Your breath caught when his hands covered yours. You looked up into his wide brown eyes and saw his fear.

“Y/N, what if I choke,” he whispered. You pulled the shirt away from him, resting it on his bed. You trailed your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

“Archie,” you started, looking into his eyes, “you are so amazing.” You brushed your fingers soothingly through his hair. “You’re going to do so well, you know why?” Archie shook his head, his eyes scanning yours. “Because you love singing and once you love something Archie,” your hands found his, “you never let it go.” You looked up from your joined hands and  met his gaze. His lips moved as if he was going to say something, but no words left his mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispered while his hand traveled up to your face. You felt the tension between the two of you again; like a flame begging to be fanned higher. You gave him a sweet smile, wondering if he’d push the bounds of your relationship. “You’ll be there, right?” His voice was quiet, laced with hope.

“Of course,” you said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled, and you carefully stepped away from him. “So do I get to hear it?” He smiled and nodded.

“Oh wait!” He turned around, walking towards his dresser. When he turned back around his held up two ties. “Which one?” You let out a giggle and stepped towards him. You glanced between the blue tie and the red one, trying to match which one would pair better with his shirt.

“Blue one,” you said, “it’s darker than your shirt so it’ll make it look casual yet bordering on professional.” He raised his eyebrows at you and you smiled. “What?” He just shook his head while he placed the blue tie on his bed.

“Have you been hanging out with Ronnie?” You smiled wider and nodded, Archie laughed. “Looks like you picked up some fashion speak.” You blushed under his teasing.

“Well at least one of us has to look presentable,” you said and Archie feigned hurt. His placed his hand on his chest and gasped.

“Oh that hurt,” he said dramatically, “right here.” He lunged towards you, tickling your sides. You let out a loud laugh and Archie continued his attack. After a few more moments of squealing, Archie let you go. “Song?” He asked, extending his hand. You smiled and took it as he lead you down stairs. You and Archie rushed through the door and towards the Andrew’s garage where Archie had his studio. He let go of your hand, raising the door up to reveal the inside. He smiled as you flopped down on the couch, ready to listen to his song. He reached down and grabbed his guitar, sitting down on the stool. You gave him a wide grin and he started to sing.

You walked towards the stage, looking for a seat near someone you knew. Since Kevin was the host, Veronica and Archie were in the show, that left only a few friends. No one was able to get a hold of Jughead and Betty, so you were alone tonight. You scanned the crowds of people and your eyes landed on Fred Andrews, waving you over. You smiled and walked towards Fred and the dark-haired woman next to him.

“Hey, Y/N. Archie’s going to be so happy to see you in the crowd tonight.” He gave you a smile as you took the seat next to him. “You know Veronica Lodge right?” Fred asked and you nodded. “This is her mother,” he gestured to the woman next to him.

“Oh you’re Y/N! Veronica’s talked about you!” She held out a manicured hand which you shook you smiled at her resemblance to Veronica.

“Hi Mrs. Lodge! I can’t wait to see Veronica sing,” you said with a smile.

“Oh but you’re here for your boyfriend,” Mrs. Lodge grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. Veronica would kill you if you admitted it, but she was so much like her mother. You felt a blush crept onto your cheeks and you turned back to Fred.

“He sang it to me last night and it was great,” Fred nodded and gave you a smile.

“Ya know, after you left, he just wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You felt another blush rise to your cheeks. “I’ve never seen anyone more in love,” he said and your breath caught. Archie loved you? Did he say that to Fred? Your thoughts were cut short as Kevin appeared on stage and introduced Josie and The Pussycats.

Everyone stood up and clapped after the performance. Mrs. Lodge cheered loudly for Veronica and for good reason too. The Pussycats did amazing! As everyone found their seats once more, Kevin appeared on stage with a big smile on his face.

“Now, with his original song “I’ll Try”, here’s Archie Andrews!” You, Fred, and most of the crowd clapped as Archie walked on stage. He looked great in the shirt you picked out, his red hair smoothed into place which made him look boyish. As he got settled on stage, you saw just how nervous he looked. It didn’t help when Reggie spoke up from the crowd, poking fun at him. You fought the urge to yell at the jerk but when Archie looked up, his gaze met with yours. You watched as his fear melted away, being replaced by a steadiness you brought to him. You gave him a smile, one that he returned. You saw him take a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he gazed into your eyes. He looked down at his guitar and his fingers started to play.

Can you hear me? Am I drowned out in the crowd? Are you listening?

Or is everyone else too loud for you too hear anything? Are you just gonna walk away? Because there are so many things I can do, but instead I'll say I'll try I'll try to let it go Let a row ride off my back yes so I'll try I'll try to let it go Let it go and never look back this way

When he finished the sang, you clapped wildly along with the rest of the crowd. You rushed out of your seat, darting out of the auditorium. You pushed open the door in the hallway that lead to the backstage. You nearly ran into Veronica on your search for Archie.

“Y/N! Did you enjoy the performance?” You nodded quickly and she smiled.

“You did so well V! I never knew you could sing like that.” She blushed and did a little curtsy. You smiled and out of the corner of your eye you saw a familiar flash of red hair. Veronica noticed your distraction and laughed lightly.

“Go get your man,” she teased, reminding you of her mother. You smiled and caught up with Archie. He hugged all of the Pussycats, thanking Valerie for her help. You smiled, waiting for him to turn around. Valerie smiled at you, giggling when Archie was confused. When he finally turned around, a huge smile grew on his features. He rushed towards you and picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself as his arms carried you around your waist. You let out a giggle and Archie smiled. He finally put you down after a spin and you smiled up at him.

“You did great Arch-” You were cut off by his lips landing on yours. Your hands rested against his chest and one of his hands pressed against your lower back. Your body was pressed completely to his as his free hair cupped your jaw. You smiled into the kiss; Archie’s lips were finally on yours, after so waiting so long. He pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting yours.

“I love you,” he whispered and you smiled. Your hands reached up to his jaws, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. He hummed into the kiss causing you to giggle slightly.

“I love you too,” he rested his forehead against yours. Your thumbs stroked his cheekbones soothingly. His hands traveled to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. “I’ve wanted to say that for so long.”

Archie smiled down at you, “me too.” You leaned up on your tippy toes, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Thank you for coming here,” you smiled, “I needed my anchor.” You pulled your head away from his, just enough to look into his eyes. His brown eyes shone with affection when they landed on your face.

“That was very poetic, Andrews,” you teased and he chuckled. He leaned down, pressing a familiar kiss to the top of your forehead. You smiled up at him, curling your lips together. Now that you had kissed him, you never wanted to stop; he was intoxicating. Another loud round of clapping from the crowd signaled the end of the show. You felt Archie intertwined your fingers with his.

“We should go meet up with my dad,” he said and you nodded. He walked over to where he had packed up his guitar, grabbing the case. You followed behind him as he lead you out into the main hallway to look around for his dad. Your eyes landed on Fred and Mrs. Lodge and you nudged Archie in that direction. You both headed over and Fred smiled at your joined hands.

“There’s my boy,” he said, opening his arms to hug Archie. Your boyfriend let go of your hand to hug his dad. “I’m so proud of you Archie,” Fred said with a smile. Archie broke away from his hug and smiled.

“Thanks Dad,” he nodded at Veronica’s mom. “Hi Mrs. Lodge,” she smiled at Archie.

“Oh please, it’s Hermione! You did great,” she said, glancing in between you and Archie. “Well I should be leaving you three to celebrate. I have my own daughter to attend to.” She kissed Fred’s cheek and walked off to find Veronica.

“So I was thinking that we could head to Pop’s for a few milkshakes,” Fred suggested and you looked up at Archie who was already looking down at you.

“Can you stick around a little longer?” You nodded in response and a wide smile reached his warm brown eyes.

“Great! Let’s go,” Fred said with a wide smile. Your hand found Archies as you walked out of the school. You felt Archie lift your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. You blushed at the romantic action and Archie smiled widely.

“I love you, Y/N L/N,” he whispered and you smiled. You squeezed his hand softly, just moments before the very fingers you tangled with had conducted beautiful music.

I hope you liked this!! Feedback on this piece would be much appreciated!

[simplyleez]

If you pretend so much it feels real - Archie/Betty/Veronica - Part 2/7

Betty really doesn’t want to be forced into a relationship by her mother so when she’s forced to a formal event to find a significant other she lies. She tells the suitors that she’s taken only she isn’t consistent with her story, telling one she has a boyfriend and the other that she has a girlfriend. In her time of trouble she turns to the only people she can think of who can pretend to be her boyfriend and girlfriend - Archie and Veronica.

For the Riverdale Kink Meme - Betty fends out an unwanted suitor by saying she has a girlfriend. She fends off another by saying she has a boyfriend. The unwanted suitors each discover what she said to the other, and one or both of them confronts her and accuses her of lying. Betty insists that she does have a boyfriend AND a girlfriend, that she’s part of a happy “throuple,” and she ropes in Archie and Veronica to back her up. This can go one of two ways: A. Smutty one-shot, maybe all taking place at a party, and ending with Betty, Archie, and Veronica hooking up for real (possibly getting caught). Doesn’t have to lead to them dating for real, but could. B. Story with more plot that actually does lead to them becoming a proper triad. Smut would be welcome but not necessary. Also it would be fine to make Veronica the one fending off the unwanted suitors at the beginning.

Find prompt here

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 (to come)

The ride was pretty much silent. Betty refused to look anywhere but out of the taxi’s window until they pulled up at the mansion. It was beautiful, Betty had to admit it as she stood before the entrance while her mother paid the driver. It looked elegant and sophisticated yet still intimidating, like you could get lost in the many hallways and that it could hold many, many suitors.

 Betty jumped slightly as Alice’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, pushing her slightly towards the open doors until Betty has nowhere else to go but inside. She can’t run but she wishes she had done before. Before her mother got her hopes up. But now she’s here and it’s much more real than before.

 Only a few guests have arrived so far, it being early in the evening, Alice insisted they stay close enough to the entrance to see who comes in but not too close to see needy (which Alice really was). “Betty, dear, you stay here and I’ll get us some drinks, it might be a long night.” With that her mother was gone from her side, Betty had the urge to run and maybe never come back. But chance of running very far in these heels were little.

 Alternatively, she pulled out her phone, debating whether or not to text anyone but changed her mind, instead aimlessly scrolling social media. Her mother reappeared with two glasses of what looked like champagne, she grabbed the glass after putting her phone away. Betty knew what was coming, her mother would try and persuade her to talk to suitors but Betty prayed she wouldn’t.

 “Betty,” Alice turned to her daughter “do you think you should talk to a few people?” It was less of a question, more of a command, which Betty obeyed. It was still early in the evening yet around one hundred people must already be here, at least that’s what Betty estimated a she circled the outside of the large ball room.

 Wandering around the outside seemed to be a safe option, Betty had come into contact with few people since her arrival an hour ago. She had finished her champagne a while ago but had no intentions of getting anymore; her mother on the other hand was standing against the bar, ordering glass after glass, seeming to get less and less interested in what Betty was doing. However, Betty was adamant to make an effort, she wouldn’t let her mother down even if it meant making herself slightly uncomfortable.

 Lost in thought, Betty wasn’t watching her footing and stumbled. She internally cursed her heels before there was a hand on her bicep, helping her stand upright. “I’m so sorry,” Betty was quick to apologise, turning around to face the short haired brunette woman who was dressed all in white making her look elegant, it made Betty slightly jealous as she would have loved to wear a lighter coloured dress herself.

 “No, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t leave my things lying about in the middle of the floor.” The other quickly apologised, pulling her belongings closer to her feet before facing Betty again. “I’m Grace, my parents kind of dragged me here, you know, hoping to find me that special someone.” the brunette sighed, Betty could relate they were practically in the same boat, she was relieved to find someone who didn’t want to be here either.

 “I’m glad I bumped into you then, I’m Betty,” she held her hand out for an obligatory formal hand shake which Grace took. “I’ve also been dragged her by my mother, who I think it’s all a bit too much for seeing as she’s at the bar,” Betty gave an awkward smile, nodding towards the bar. “Well, I should go and, uh, make an effort to talk to people but it was nice meeting you Grace.” The brunette smiled back at her, understanding Betty’s situation, before Betty continued to make her way around the room.

 She didn’t make it very far until she saw a fairly tall, unthreatening, quite dapper looking man, who was also looking right back at her. His blond hair was swept to the side, wearing a light grey suit with a pastel blue tie which, yes, did match his eyes. Betty thought, then and there, that this night wasn’t going to be a disaster and that she could possibly try and enjoy herself.

 “Hi, I’m Betty,” her voice was confident yet calming, attempting not to come on too strong, “Kyle,” he responded, again Betty gave him an obligatory handshake. “Are you enjoying this, uh, I’m not quite sure what to call it, this event?” Betty thought it wasn’t exactly the most riveting sentence starter but it was a starter. “Could be better,” Kyle responded, Betty could only laugh in agreement, “I feel exactly the same, kind of being forced here against your will puts a downer on the situation,” Betty said, her eyes drifting to the bar again to watch her mother sip at what looked like a combination of a spirit and lemonade.

 “Same here, both my mom and dad think I could use some opportunities to meet girls,” Kyle stopped to laugh lightly, looking over to who Betty assumed were his parents, “you know, it probably would have been thoughtful of them only they have quite caught onto the idea that I’m gay.” Betty laughed with him this time, both at how unfortunate and hilarious his situation was.

 “I feel so sorry for you, I guess the best thing is just to survive the night.” Betty was unsure of what to say, giving him the same advice that she’d given herself at the start of the night. And that was the end of their brief conversation. Betty decided she could probably leave sooner than she expected as Alice probably won’t care too much by now, and Betty has made an effort.

 She was pulled from her thoughts by a tap on her shoulder. She turned around abruptly, coming face to face with another man around her age. He wore a worn down navy jacket with a plain white shirt and jeans which seemed out of place at an event like this, “hi, I’m Jake.” There’s no obligatory handshake, Betty keeps her hands clutched on her bag tighter because she just gets bad vibes from this guy, his smile is too sly and his body language too shifty.

 “I’m Betty,” she attempts to keep her voice neutral but she hears the annoyance in her tone, it’s just too long of a night in a too posh place with this shifty character. In all honesty she just wants to be at home or somewhere as equally comfortable where she doesn’t have to pretend to be prim and proper. Her mind wanders to her friends, just the five of them sitting at Pop’s gossiping and not having to pretend.

 “So, are you here alone? Like, are you single?” Oh god. This isn’t what Betty wanted, she hoped that no one would actually take this event as a serious opportunity to find a partner but here he is. “I’m here with my mom but I, uh, I have a girlfriend, sorry.” Betty doesn’t know why she apologises but she just wants out of this awkward situation so she lies.

 “Oh, okay,” Jake sounds defeated and Betty is thankful, thinking this is time for her to escape when Jake speaks up again “you ever thought of having a threesome?” That’s Betty’s cue to get the hell out of there. “No, no thanks, bye.” Betty’s turning around and walking away as quickly as she can in those heels, praying to the highest heaven that she never has to speak to him again.

 Betty’s ready to leave now so starts making her way over to her mother but is intercepted by another male, he looks slightly older than her but he’s definitely dressed to impress and has the money for it. “Harrison,” he states, holding out his hand which Betty shakes quickly as she watches her mother out of the corner of her eye, “I’m Betty” she’s sick of introducing herself by now.

 He starts making small talk but Betty tunes out, watching her mother order another drink and she really needs to do something because her mother will not like the fact she might make a fool of herself in the morning. “Look, I’ve got to go my mother-” she’s cut short by Harrison’s hand on her arm, gripping her slightly so she won’t move but Betty shrugs it off and glares daggers at him. “I have a boyfriend, leave me alone!” Betty practically storms away from him, towards the bar.

 “Mom?” Betty’s concerned now, Alice only looks at her, her eyes are sad and disappointed. “Betty, I-I’m so sorry, I know you don’t want to be here, I’m s-such a bad mother,” Alice’s voice is weaker than before and Betty is just confused but feels bad nevertheless, “you’re not a bad mother, yes I didn’t want to come but you’re only trying to help me.” Betty knows now is time to leave, her mother finishes off her drink as Betty fishes her phone out of her clutch and texts Archie.

 Betty: Arch I need a big favour, I’m at the event and my mother’s wasted. I don’t know what to do.

 Archie: Don’t worry me and my dad will come pick you guys up :)

 Betty: You don’t have to do that!

 Archie: Too late already going to ask dad.

 Betty: Uh, fine, thank you so much.

 Betty smiles to herself, not putting her phone away so she knows when Archie gets here, “mom, come on, we’re going home.” Just when she gets Alice on her feet she’s faced with both men she recently spoke to and her heart sinks, she just looks expectantly at them. “You told me you had a boyfriend but told Jake you had a girlfriend, you’re such a liar, who’re you lying to or do you not have any?” In that moment Betty’s kind of glad her mother probably won’t remember this tomorrow morning and replies “both, I’m part of a, uh, throuple, look I’ve got to get my mother home first then I can explain.”

 Betty doesn’t wait for a reply but pushes past them with her arm around her mother, they sit down on a bench outside and immediately knows who she’s going to ask a favour from.

 Betty Cooper created a chat.

Betty Cooper added Archie Andrews.

Betty Cooper added Veronica Lodge.

Betty Cooper renamed the chat Please Help Me.

 Betty: Archie have you left yet?

 Betty: Please say you haven’t

 Archie: Not yet, what���s wrong?

 Veronica: WTF is going on???

 Betty: I need both of you to come to this event in your best dress and pretend to be my partners, it’s a long story but I NEED to get some assholes to stay away from me.

 Veronica: Absolutely, anything for you B.

 Archie: Okay but you’re explaining this when we get there.

 Betty: Deal.

 Veronica: How about a lift Archiekins?

 Archie: I suppose so… yeah no problem.

 Betty: You guys are the best!!!

 Veronica: We know we are, well at least I know.

 Veronica: B I don’t own any dresses that aren’t black so we’re going to match.

 Betty: That’s fine :)

 Veronica: Archiekins don’t dress like a scruff please!

 Archie: You think really lowly of me :’(. On my way now Ronnie get ready!

 Veronica: Shit okay better go change then.

 Archie: Betts are you alright?

 Betty: Yeah I’ll just explain once you’re both here. Tell your dad thanks though I really appreciate this.

 Archie: He would do anything for you Betts and so would I :)

 Betty lets out a breath, her mother is unusually quiet and tense beside her, she knows they need to talk about their problems but not now when her mother is off her face. “I’m sorry Betty, I just want you to have such a- a good life but...” Alice trails off, her attention drawn to the approaching car.

 Archie and Veronica step out, Veronica dressed in a short black cocktail dress with her usual pearl necklace and dark lipstick while Archie looks nothing like his normal self, in a dark black suit that Betty isn’t sure it’s actually his because it’s not the sort of thing he owns. Betty pulls herself from her thoughts when they approach her. “Mom,” Betty turns to her mother who’s slumped on the bench “Mr. Andrews going to drive you home okay, take care of yourself, don’t worry about me I’m going to stay out for a while longer, okay?”

 Her mother doesn’t reply but stands with Betty’s help, Archie smiles faintly at her and helps her mother from her other side. He helps Alice into the passenger's side while Betty goes to the drivers side, “thank you so much Mr. Andrews, I’m so sorry but very grateful.” Fred just smiles back at her, “don’t worry, just have fun you three and take care.” With that the car pulls away and Betty faces the other two again.

 Veronica is the first to break the awkward silence, “B, you’ve got some explaining to do.”