Shades of Blue
Jughead x Reader
Jughead is the reader’s best friend, and she’s liked him since grade school but has never told him. Based on the requested song: Shades of Blue by Ashton Edminster
Word count: 2,102
A/N: So this was going to be sad, but then I got into a v happy mood and I couldn’t end it sad so here’s some fluffy lovey something idk
Cause all my shades of blue
Go away when I’m with you
Put a golden frame around my heart
Cause you make me feel like a piece of art
Secrets. They can tear people apart, or bring people together.
You have a secret.
A secret that would rock the walls of Riverdale High.
A secret that would change everything.
You love Jughead Jones.
Okay, so maybe it’s not that big of a secret, but still, you’ve been friends with Jughead since pre-school, and you’ve never once told him that. You’ve never once let it slip. You know that he only thinks of you as a friend, maybe even a sister. Your mom practically helped raise Jellybean, going over to babysit for the Jone’s whenever there were issues beyond your comprehension at the time. You ended up tagging along, becoming closer and closer with Jughead. You remember the time when you would make him sit as you tried to sketch him out, eventually trying to draw his likeness from memory.
You often think back fondly at a memories of times you tried to make Jughead sit so you could paint him, but it just ended up in him trying to get the most paint on you.
You smile, realizing that you’ve been there for him through everything, and you’ve come to rely on each other.
You have a relationship with him unlike anyone else, one that’s more playful, almost sibling-like in nature. He’s only like that with you, only willing to be that way around someone he’s known all his life.
During the summer from Freshman to Sophomore year, your mom stops babysitting Jellybean, and you still don’t know why. You continue to ask about it, mainly because you just want any excuse to spend more time with Jughead, but she doesn’t tell.
That’s her secret.
One day after school, you’re sitting in front of an easel in the art room with a paint-covered smock, working an abstract of a human girl, a bleeding heart coming out of the center. There’s something missing, though, and you can’t quite figure out what it is.
“Hey dork.” you hear a voice say, and you turn around to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway. Jughead.
“Hey idiot.” you respond to him, making him smirk.
“Let’s go to Pop’s. I want some fries.” he says, walking over to where you’re sitting and casting a shadow on your work of art.
You sigh and look up at him, motioning for him to move. He doesn’t move.
“Jug, move.” you say, standing up and shoving him with your shoulder playfully, trying not to get paint on him.
“No,” he shoves you back as per usual. Nudging shoulders has quickly become one of the things that only you guys understand. You go back to the stool you were sitting on, “What are you painting?”
You sit on the stool once more and stare at the piece, “Honestly I’m not sure. Any tips?”
He stares at it for a moment, putting out his thumb and finger in an ‘L’ shape, acting like he’s observing it in a deep manner, like a true art critic. He squints his eyes and then opens them like he has an idea.
“Paint a frame around the heart,” he says, not elaborating on what he means, “and do it quick, I want food.”
You grab the gold paint, deciding to take his advice. You paint a square around the heart, adding depth to the top and the bottom to make it look more frame-like.
Surprisingly, it works. The frame makes the heart look like it’s out of her chest completely, like the woman in the painting is saving it for someone to take. You like the symbolism.
You take a step back and initial in the corner, marking the piece complete.
“That.. that worked?” Jughead’s voice makes you jump. You turn to him with the still-wet paint brush and silently threaten to mark his beanie if he scares her again.
He puts up his hands in surrender and you smile at him, “What? I just didn’t think it would, or that you’d actually take my advice for once.” he smirks.
“Shut up, you don’t give terrible advice…” you say nudging him on the shoulder again, “all the time.” you add.
You turn back to the painting, and then you put the brush in some water to soak and take off the smock.
“Pop’s?” he asks, and you nod, rolling your eyes. You walk out of the art room and turn off the lights to the girl with a frame around her heart.
I’d love to be the one to make you laugh
A few weeks go by, and Jughead has made the decision to investigate the Jason Blossom murder, and has even decided to write a novel about it. Because of this, he becomes distant.
He even starts hanging out with Betty Cooper.
You have nothing against Betty Cooper, by any means, you’re only slightly jealous because deep down you know that he’s starting to like her.
You want Jughead to be happy, and in the end if that’s not with you, you’re going to have to deal with it.
You swallow your pride, and every time he brings her up you listen intently, nodding and offering advice. He mainly asks about what they should do to proceed with the case, and since that has nothing to do with his relationship with her, you’re fine with answering them.
He still finds time for you, so it’s not like he’s completely distancing himself, but you do notice a slight shift in the way he acts. He’s nervous around you now, like he has something to hide, a secret, but you only catch glimpses of it.
Soon, a rumor starts going around school that he’s asked out Betty, and you sink into yourself for a few days, not talking to anyone, to deal with the news. You want to text him about it, but you don’t feel like it’s your place. You resign yourself into being the best friend, the sister figure in his life. Somewhere deep down you’ve always known that’s what you would always be to him. Now there is no way around it.
The week after hearing the news, you walk towards Pop’s on a Friday night. This is, without a doubt, one of your favorite days of the week, not only because of the start of the weekend, but because you always meet up with Jughead for fries and a milkshake and talk about anything that you’ve missed that week.
No matter what, he’s always there waiting for you with fries and a milkshake.
Today starts as no different, until you see someone sitting in your spot across from Jughead in your regular booth.
The all too familiar blonde ponytail waves from side to side as she shakes her head and laughs at something he said.
She replies, saying something I can’t hear, because the world is blurring around me, causing tunnel vision.
He laughs in response. And not just a small chuckle like he does with you, but a full laugh with a smile nearly from ear to ear. He looks back at her and his eyes seem to look into hers, and you realize he’s never looked at you like that before.
Then he looks up and locks eyes with you, and you know that he can read exactly what you’re thinking because all of his features change. You’ve caught him in a lie, you’ve caught him with his secret, and he knows it.
You walk out the door, and it slams behind you unintentionally. You put a hand over your mouth to keep sobs from escaping.
The rumors, they’re true. You thought you had dealt with it, but seeing it in person is a whole different story.
You start walking home, afraid that you’ll never be able to make him laugh the way she just did.
I’d love to hear each thought upon your mind
I’d love to hang on close to every word that I could find
You ignore him for the weekend, and even part of the week, not able to talk to him just yet. You need time to process and to heal, and then to move on and try to find someone else. Maybe Archie Andrews?
You shake the thought from your head as soon as it enters, he’s just not your type. Nice guy, not your type.
You’re walking home from school, when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. You know who it is without even needing to look.
You ignore him for a few minutes before he says, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“Oh, the uh, school talent show.” you stammer, trying to cover.
“Really?” he questions, lifting his eyebrows. He knows you too well to know when you’re lying about something like this.
“Yeah, thinking about entering it. Speed painting, maybe.” you offer, shrugging your shoulders.
“You should.” he says.
You look at him, surprised, “Really?”
“Your paintings are beautiful, you’d bring the crowd to their feet.” he compliments.
“No…” You shake it off, and you begin to notice his nerves coming back. Something’s up and you’re worried this is how he’s going to break the news that him and Betty are official.
“Yes, you would. Your art would light up any room, and not to mention the presence you would have on stage would just be stunning and…” he’s complimenting you too much.
“No, Juggie, stop.” you interrupt him, stopping and turning to face him.
“What?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.
“I don’t… I…” you struggle to admit what you’ve been hiding from him since grade school, you can’t form the words to tell him.
“(Y/N), what is it?” He puts a hand on your arm, and his touch makes you seize up, your skin growing cold.
“I can’t do this anymore.” you say abruptly, turning away from him so you can’t see his face anymore.
“Do what?” He asks, still close. He doesn’t touch you, but you know that he’s there. He’s there to hold you if you need.
“I can’t listen to you talk about me like that. I can’t. My head will get all messed up and get the wrong ideas. You have Betty, she’s your girlfriend.-” you turn back around to face him, and you can see him trying to say something, but if you don’t tell him about your secret now, you know you never will, so you hold up a hand to him to let you continue speaking, “-and trust me I know, I know I’m your best friend and that we tell each other everything. And you have no idea how much I would love to just hear you go on and on… but it’s wrong, Juggie.”
He gives you a questioning look, silent. You’re trying to hold it together, but a few tears slip from your eyes.
“I’m trying to say that the one secret I haven’t told you, the one thing that I’ve kept from you all these years… is that I am in love with you. I am utterly and completely in love with you, Jughead Jones.” You admit, not able to look him in the eyes. There’s tears dripping down your cheeks, and you don’t want him to see you cry.
“God, (Y/N.” He says, gently lifting your chin to make you look at him.
“What?” you ask, voice cracking, barely a whisper.
“Betty and I… we’re just friends. I was asking her advice about this other girl, I can’t get her off my mind. I’ve been getting nervous around her, and I sound like, well, an idiot.” he admits, and now it’s your turn to be confused.
“Who? Who do you have on your mind?” you question, very aware of his body getting ever so closer to yours.
“You, ya dork.” he gives you a smirk.
“What?” you ask, nothing really computing yet.
His hands hesitate to touch you, worried about what you will say next. He drops his hand from your chin.
Suddenly, it all clicks, all of the glances, all of the nerves, all of the playful shoves and banter. It was flirting, you’ve been flirting.
You grab his neck gently, bringing his lips to meet yours, your bodies finally crashing together. His hands don’t hesitate anymore, going directly to your waist and pulling you closer, if it’s possible.
“You may be an idiot, but you’re my idiot.” you whisper once your lips part, foreheads together.
“I love you, dork.”
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