#but it's jughead! he's cute! she can't resist him!

[imreallyloveleee]

“Jughead?”

At the sound of his name, Jughead shoves his phone into his back pocket, looks up, and freezes. 

The woman standing in the doorway — with a bouncy blonde ponytail, collared sweater, and the greenest eyes he’s ever seen — is not what he’d envisioned when he scheduled a consultation with a tattoo cover-up specialist. 

“Jughead Jones?” she repeats, sounding slightly unsure this time. 

“Yeah, no, that’s me.” He clears his throat as he rises to his feet, and she smiles.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Betty.” With a wave of her hand, she leads him into a small room at the back of the shop, gesturing towards the black tattoo chair in the corner for him to take a seat. “And you’re looking to cover up a back tattoo, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Great.” Betty blinks at him for a moment, then asks, “So can I see it?”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” With a slight shake of his head, Jughead pulls his t-shirt over his head, taking care to ensure his gray beanie doesn’t come off with it. 

He twists around so she can see the tattoo in question, a name spelled out in black script across his left shoulder: Jessica.

“Okay,” Betty says after a brief pause. “So this is either going to be fairly easy or really hard, depending on what you want.”

Jughead cranes his head over his shoulder to see her, and immediately regrets it. From a distance, she was distractingly pretty; up close, she’s dazzling. 

Turning back towards the wall, he says, “Easy, please.”

“Oh — so you don’t have a design in mind?”

He glances at her again. “Not really. Was I supposed to?” 

“Well, usually, but — we can work together on something. That actually might make it easier. Some people come in with, like, a big black Celtic knot on their chest and think I can magically turn it into a field of yellow daisies.” 

Betty smiles again, and Jughead feels his insides turn to goo. 

Goddammit.

He’s here to erase the final vestiges of his latest romantic entanglement — not knot himself up in a new one. Especially not with the woman doing the erasing, for that matter. 

“Of course, you could also go the laser removal route, if there’s nothing you’re excited to replace it with,” she continues, oblivious to the fact that she’s utterly charming him with nothing more than what is probably her standard spiel for new clients. “But since it’s black, you’re probably looking at at least ten to twelve sessions, and there still might be kind of a smudge left there at the end.”

Jughead had in fact looked into laser removal, and come to the similar conclusion that driving over an hour back and forth to the dermatology clinic in Greendale a dozen times was an exorbitantly long amount of time to spend undoing a decision that he’d made in roughly ten seconds. Besides, spending more time around Betty hardly seems like a chore.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something I’m excited about.” 

Betty leaves the room, returning with an armful of books and binders filled with design ideas. “See if anything in these inspires you, and I’ll tell you if it’s doable,” she explains.

To his surprise, rather than leaving Jughead alone to peruse the artwork, she settles back into the chair opposite him and begins to flip idly through one of the books herself. “Feel free to tell me if I’m being too nosy,” she says lightly, “but sometimes it’s helpful with creating a new design if I know the story behind the old one.” 

Jughead cringes — he’d figured this was coming. “There’s not much of a story,” he admits. “My now-ex-girlfriend and I did shrooms on a weekend trip to the city and she somehow convinced me to get her name tattooed across my back while I was tripping balls.”

Betty clucks her tongue in disapproval. “A decent artist wouldn’t tattoo a guy who shows up tripping balls.”

“A decent artist wouldn’t get the phone number of the girlfriend whose name a guy was getting tattooed across his back,” he replies. “And a decent girlfriend wouldn’t text him for a booty call literally the next day. But that’s why she’s an ex-girlfriend, not a decent girlfriend.”

Betty snorts, immediately followed by a soft gasp as she claps her hand across her mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny.”

Jughead grins as he flips to the next page in his book. “No, it is. And it was months ago, I’m over it. You’re welcome to viciously mock me for my poor decision-making skills. Everyone else in my life already has.” Chief among them being his sister, JB, but even his best friend Archie — who himself harbored a laundry list of embarrassing romantic mishaps — had got in a few good digs. 

“I have one rule: I don’t make fun of my clients,” Betty insists, though the slant of her mouth suggests otherwise. “But maybe it’ll make you feel better to know that you’re not alone.” 

“Honestly, it makes me feel like a cliche.” 

“Well, everyone deserves a second chance.” 

Something about the way she says it draws his gaze back to her face, but her own eyes are trained down on the pages in her lap. Jughead feels a sudden, desperate urge to know more about her. 

“Feel free to tell me if I’m being too nosy,” he begins slowly. “But most tattoo artists I’ve met are pretty much covered in tattoos themselves.” 

A faint pink flush rises on Betty’s cheeks as she meets his questioning gaze. “How do you know I’m not?”

It’s a fair point. The only bare skin she has on display is that of her hands, her neck, and her face. 

But the mere suggestion of more — the thought of peeling away her clothes to find the warm, smooth, inked up skin beneath — is too much for him to handle right now.

With a sly twist to her lips, Betty holds one arm out towards him, pushing back the sleeve of her sweater to reveal the underside of her wrist. What looks like the curled end of a dragon’s tail peeks out from the edge. 

“My parents strongly disapprove, so I don’t get inked anywhere that I can’t cover up with my clothes. It’s silly, but makes visits home a lot easier to bear.” She shrugs. “And it’s cold out today.” 

Jughead swallows. “That’s a shame. Just that little bit of it looks pretty cool.”

“Maybe I’ll let you see the whole thing when you come back for your next appointment.” 

Betty holds his gaze for a beat. Then — to his horror — she bursts into laughter.

She presses her palms to her cheeks, which have grown bright red. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally this…I didn’t mean for that to sound like…god, you must think I’m so unprofessional.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Jughead laughs, too, certain his own red-hot face matches hers. “I — well, I’d like that.” He closes the book in his lap, leaning slightly forward. “Maybe we could keep working on a design over drinks tonight?”

Betty presses her lips together, her nose scrunching up adorably. “I actually have two rules. I also don’t date my clients.” 

Jughead shoots her a crooked smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to go with the laser removal, after all.” 

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

Bughead prompt: A little sweet he can't resist, often leads to being kissed! - Veronica Lodge

I had to go and look up where this quote was from! Fudge to give him the final nudge, ay Ronnie? I was gonna make this cute and fluffy but then oops angst happened! Enjoy my loves.

(I wrote this on the notes section of my phone, and am currently sitting on a wall to get wifi, the things I do for you lot, huh? ❤)

_____________________________________

“Hey, B!” Veronica beamed, strutting down the hallway towards her friend. Betty looked upwards in acknowledgement, the small smile she offered grim at best, not even close to reaching her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Veronica asked, tone switching to concern instantly. Betty began to shake her head, unusually askew ponytail swaying as she looked down dejectedly, fingers playing with the frayed edge of her sweater sleeve.

“It… it’s nothing,” Betty murmured, refusing to meet Veronica’s steady gaze.

“Come on, B, I know you. And I definitely know when something is up? Tell me, maybe I can help,” Veronica coaxed, resting a reassuring hand on her arm. Betty bit her bottom lip as it began to quiver, blinking quickly in an attempt to dissipate the tears gathering along her waterline.

“Jughead and I had a fight,” she got out with a shaky inhale. “Our first fight.” Veronica’s eyes hardened at the pain she saw settling on Betty’s face.

“What did Edgar Allen Poe do?” she all but demanded, shoulders moving back as she prepared for some classic Lodge confrontation. The colour drained from Betty’s face.

“No, it was my fault,” she whispered, Veronica having to lean forward slightly in order to catch the words. She blinked in surprise. The idea of Riverdale’s very own Perfect Polly (and yes, she was aware of the irony) doing anything to anger someone - let alone the boy that fawned over her like she hung the stars - was unimaginable.

“Oh… what happened?” she asked, too curious to be sorry about prying. Betty sighed, shoulders curling forward in defeat.

“It’s stupid, I don’t even know why…” she cried, hands gesturing futilely. “He just caught me at a really bad moment, Mom is still a wreck about Polly, and I had an awful headache and he wouldn’t stop talking about how we weren’t getting anywhere with the investigation anymore and I snapped!” Her breathing hitched as she closed her eyes against the memory of her outburst. “I said that maybe…” she paused, shaking her head, unable to repeat her words. “I implied there were more important things than our investigating and his novel, in more unkind words,” she whispered, voice cracking as the tears finally started to spill over. Veronica grimaced, unable to stop herself from picturing the way Jughead’s face would have fallen at his girlfriend’s outburst. Betty swiped furiously at her face. “You should have seen him, V, he looked so sad but he just nodded and left. I-I didn’t mean it, I wanted to take it all back straight away but he…” she had to pause to catch her stuttering breath.

Veronica’s heart ached for the crestfallen girl before her. Sure, she’d been surprised when she’d first learned of their secret tryst, but she couldn’t deny the good they had done for each other. Betty had a glow that radiated from her very core, lighting her up even on her darkest days. And she’d never seen Jughead so… comfortable, like he finally felt at home in his skin, like he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. And Betty had gone and knocked over the whole damn display rack just because of the wrong thing said at the wrong time. Veronica ran her eyes over Betty one last time, mouth dropping open slightly as the pieces fell into place.

“You love him.” It wasn’t a question. Betty’s eyes snapped up to meet her own, shining with fresh tears, but their depth of verdant green crystal clear. Betty sniffed, running her sleeve under her nose.

“Yeah,” she said, voice cracking, as if it were the simplest statement in the world. “And now he won’t even look at me.” They stood, face to face in the hall a while longer before Veronica straightened up, chin lifting into the air slightly.

“Well, if my girl is in trouble then it is my duty as designated best friend to help her out,” Veronica announced, hoping to pull a giggle from Betty’s downturned lips. The reluctant smirk she offered was good enough. “Every woman knows that the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and given that I suspect Jughead is secretly harbouring at least three stomachs this should be an easy feat,” she quipped, eyes sparkling mischievously. Betty couldn’t hold back her laugh, breath stuttering still on her inhale. Veronica’s eyes softened. “I know it’s hard, but I can say without a doubt that the frustrating enigma that is Jughead Jones the Third is head over heels in love with you too,” she said, tipping Betty’s downturned face up with a delicate finger under her chin.

“You think?” The hope in Betty’s voice was enough to melt the iciest of hearts. Veronica nodded firmly.

“I know.” The creases in Betty’s forehead smoothed out slightly as Veronica linked her arm through hers. “Come on, Julia Child, we’ve got work to do.”

***

When she tried to leave her spot next to Betty on the worn out couch in the Blue and Gold office she’d yelped in surprise as tight finders dug into her forearm, keeping her firmly in place. She raised a sharply arched questioning eyebrow.

“I need you here, in case…” Betty trailed off, unable to bring herself to think of the alternative. Veronica nodded in understanding, resting a reassuring hand over the one still tightly clinging to her arm.

Jughead was cautious as he stepped over the threshold, into the office he considered a second home. Betty’s heart stopped before picking up again in double time. She stood up on shaky legs, nervousness coursing through her veins. Veronica took a moment to look closely at Jughead’s face, the faintest traces of red rimmed his suspicious eyes as they flicked around the room, determined not to meet Betty’s head on.

“Hi, Juggie,” her barely audible voice still rung out loud and clear across the stiflingly still air in the room.

“Hey, Betts.” His voice was thick and gravelly with unshed emotion. His eyes finally landed on the box on his desk, gaudy and bright, tied with an elaborate bow that Veronica insisted had to be the look they went for. “What’s that?” he asked cautiously. Betty’s had came up to run through her ponytail, an action of comfort.

“They’re… I made you brownies,” she shrugged, the gesture seeming silly now that he was standing in front of her. How could sugar and chocolate possible make up for the hurt she caused? Her heart stuttered at the disbelieving chuckle he let out, eyes beginning to glow with classic Jughead mirth once more. Betty felt her confidence grow. “I’m so sorry, Juggie, I didn’t mean any of the things I-” she stopped, feeling her words start to pour forth wildly. She pointed to the delicately folded paper tucked under the ribbon. “I wrote everything down just in case,” she mumbled bashfully. His heart swelled at her gesture.

Veronica watched with apprehension as Jughead gingerly picked up the note and began to read. Betty hadn’t let her read what she had written, placing her hand over the page as her cheeks dusted with pink. Veronica smiled sheepishly at her nosiness, lifting her hands in apology as she left Betty to her declarations. Jughead’s breath hitched audibly as his eyes fervorously scanned the words written in Betty’s sloping hand. He looked up at her suddenly, eyes wide and gleaming.

“Really?” he asked, tone wistful. Betty nodded, smiling through quivering lips.

“Yes, I love you,” her words were just a breath as he reached for her, cupping her cheeks with shaking hands and pressing his lips to hers with an undeniable fire. Her hands fisted in the soft fabric of his sweater. He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, heart pounding under her palms.

“I love you, Betty.” Veronica smiled in satisfaction as she slipped out behind them unnoticed as they remained wrapped around each other.

***

“Betts, these are the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. Seriously,” Jughead mumbled around a mouth full of cake from across the booth at Pop’s, crumbs falling from his lips. Veronica scrunched her nose up in disgust at his lack of table manners, turning to look at her best friend, expecting to see Betty’s face mirroring her own. But instead she was greeted with that glow, the one she’d been missing for those few dreary hours they were apart. Betty giggled shyly, reaching up to wipe away some of the mess on his face before pressing a tender peck against the corner of his mouth while he smiled at her with that expression he saved for her eyes only.

Betty glanced over at her best friend over the tabletop, mouthing a ‘thank you’ when she caught her eyes. Veronica nodded in acknowledgment. She hadn’t experienced much love in her lifetime yet, but she knew that the story unfolding across from here would be one for the ages.