Forsythe - Jughead Jones
Can I please have a Jughead fic where Y/n (confident, tough girl) is being playful and making fun of Jugheads real name when they’re at her house and he starts a tickle fight out of revenge being 100% done with her shit, despite thinking it’s adorable.
Fluffy & cute af Jughead imagine where you two have always been best friends and jug has been trying to hide the fact that he’s in love with you until he finally confesses his feelings and so you admit you feel the same way 😊 Love your writing btw x
I couldn’t help but combine these two ideas! I hope you’re both okay with this and I’m sorry it’s so short!!!
“What does that even mean?” You asked while grabbing your phone. Jughead spun around in your desk chair to look at you. You were sitting on your bedroom floor still giggling over how his dad used his full name when she picked him up to come over.. “It doesn’t matter, Y/N, just drop it,” he said turning back to type away at his novel. You let out another adorable giggle that, even though you couldn’t see it, made Jughead smile. “Forsythe Pendleton, it sounds almost royal,” you let out a fake gasp, “Are you a long lost prince?” Jughead turned to look at you while trying to suppress a smile, “Wouldn’t that be interesting, me as a prince.” You let out a laugh, “You don’t have the manners!” He gave you a smile and you typed on your phone.
“According to sevenreflections.com, you are suppose to be kind, hospitable, and friendly,” you let out another laugh. He just rolled his eyes while he looked at his computer screen. The original plan for when he came over to your place was to have you proofread the drafts of his novels. He didn’t bring this up of course, but Jughead also wanted to tell you about how he truly felt about you, his best friend. He had been harboring feelings for you since the 6th grade, and after around four years of hiding, he finally felt confident enough to tell you. Those plans were soon scrapped when you heard his real name. He didn’t mind the teasing, not really, he just had other things on his mind. “I wonder what Pendleton means,” you voice broke him from his thoughts. “Oh this one suits you,” you said getting up to show him the results. You leaned over him, your arm over his shoulders to hold your phone in front of his face.
“You express yourself and your ideas through writings or other forms of art. While you are expressive, you like to keep your feelings to yourself,” you read the first few sentences out loud but Jughead wasn’t listening. He had stopped typing, marveling in your closeness and not hearing a single word. “Sounds like you,” you added and you turned to face him, but only to find his gaze on you. “Uh yeah, sounds like me,” he said quickly, looking back to his computer screen. You walked to your bed and sat against the wall, shutting off your phone. “When you’re done with that chapter, I can read through it.” He nodded and you picked at your nails, somewhat bored. Jughead’s finger were typing so fast, he thought maybe he’d have a cramp. He just wanted to hear you talk again. An idea crawled into his brain and he smiled, “So are you done making fun of my name?” You let out a laugh from where you were seated. “Oh honey, I’ve just started!” He smiled at his screen and listened while you described how a guy with his name should act and how he was the total opposite. “Like I said before, maybe you’re a rich prince,” you paused, smiling widely, “if that’s the case, we should go out sometime.” Jughead fumbled in his typing and hot blushed rose to his cheeks. He thanked God that you couldn’t see the blush, but you must’ve noticed his fingers because you started laughing again. To his surprise you didn’t downplay your proposal with a “I was just kidding, Jug.” No, you didn’t say anything of the sort and a sense of hope flooded over him. He added the finishing touches to his chapter and turned to face you.
“And Jughead Jones the third,” you let out a chuckle, “more like Jughead Jones the turd.” You started laughing, but Jughead couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s it,” he said, standing and darting over to your bed. He leaned over you and proceeded to tickle you. You laughed and screamed, causing Jughead to smile wickedly. “You’re so mean Y/N,” he said, still tickling you, “but not like mean mean, but like annoying five year-old type mean.” This caused you to laugh more, making Jughead laugh as well and loosen up on his tickle attack. You took that to your advantage, grabbing his arms and pulling him down to the bed, where you pinned him.
“You tickle me for revenge, Jones, you get put in time out. Who’s the five year-old now?” He laughed fro underneath you, causing you to smile down at him. “I remember when you were five, Y/N, you haven’t changed a bit.” You raised your eyebrow at him, “Really now, would a five year old have such good taste in choosing you as their best friend?” He stared up at you, taking in your stunning features. “Probably not, kids don’t tend to like me,” he whispered and you smiled down at him. He sat up suddenly, face to face with you as you were straddling his thighs to pin him. “But you like me,” he said, feeling his gut tighten with nerves, “and I was wondering if there was a chance that you,” his confidence wavered as he spoke. “I like you Y/N, more than as a friend.” You looked at him, peering into his green eyes before speaking. “You’re lucky you’re probably a long lost prince,” you said with a smile, “so about that date.” Jughead just smiled at you as you rattled off all of the outlandish things you wanted to do on your first date, that he could afford because of his royal family riches.
He just listened until he couldn’t help himself any longer and pressed a kiss to your cheek. His hand lingered on the other side of your face as he pulled away, using his thumb to stroke your cheek bone. Your expression suddenly grew serious, “Jug, are you sure you want this? I know I’m a handful sometimes and I don’t want you to leave.” His eyebrows knitted together in concern, and he held your face in his hands. “I’ve wanted you for so long Y/N, even though you a total pain in the ass.” You laughed and so did he, but he wanted to you to believe him. He carefully moved in a pressed a soft and short kiss to your lips. “You’re lucky I’m a long lost prince with the patience of a saint.” You let out a loud laugh, “Sure, whatever Forsythe.”