I didn’t know what type of fight you wanted so, it turned into fluff because I’m total and utter trash! It has a bad ending but that’s because I never wanted it to end. I hope you like it!
You got the text from Jughead around 4pm, that said to come over to his house. You almost didn’t go, due to the amount of homework you had, but at 4:18 pm you were already in his driveway. His parents weren’t home, as usual, so you just walked into the house.
“Jughead? What’s wrong?” You shouted, wandering around the house looking for your friend. You walked up the carpeted staircase and turned left into his room. There you saw him, sprawled out on the floor with his back leaning against the side of his bed. The cuts and bruises on his arms and face looked fresh and he seemed like he was in pain. You rushed over and crouched next to him, you leaned over grabbing his face carefully in your hands.
“Jug, what happened?” You asked, he turned his face in your hands so he could look you in the eyes, but he didn’t speak. His blue eyes were unreadable as he took in your features. “Was it Reggie?” You asked, but he still didn’t reply. He just closed his eyes and leaned his face against your palm. You slowly got up, “I’ll grab some meds.” You exited his room and into the bathroom. There you opened a cabinet and grabbed some pain killers and hydrogen peroxide for his cuts.
When you returned to his room, Jughead was trying to get up to do who knows what. You set the medicine down on his dresser and put your hands on your hips. He almost didn’t notice the look you were giving him, until you cleared your throat. His eyes landed on you, and despite the pain, he gave you a little smile. “You look cute when you’re pissed off.” If it wasn’t for the situation, you might’ve blushed harder, but you just looked at him. “Sit down, Jug.”
“I have to type. Just really quick.” He said as his limped over to his desk. It looked like he would fall at any second, so you walked over and guided him to his bed. “You can type later. But for now,” you said sitting him on his bed, “just sit.” He listened and didn’t move as you pressed a rag soaked in the peroxide to his cuts. He let out small hisses of pain to which you muttered ‘sorry.’ You weren’t sorry though, not really. He had been getting into fights whenever he could and you were tired of playing nurse with him afterwards. So after you had cleaned his cuts and made him down a few pain killers, you let him have it.
“This fighting with people needs to end! I’m tired of seeing you beat up like this.” You yelled, throwing your hands in the air. “You don’t understand, I did it for-”
“Your novel; I know, but that doesn’t justify it Jug!” You said, interrupting him. He looked up at you from his spot on his bed, blue eyes watching you intensely while you shouted at him. “What ever they said they said about your novel or you shouldn’t provoke you like this! Normally you wouldn’t even care so what-” He was on his feet now, a mere inches away from you. You became silent at the sudden closeness. “They weren’t bashing on me, Y/N.” His voice was in a deep whisper as he spoke, “They were saying ugly, horrible things about you and I wouldn’t have that. You out of all people, do not deserve that.” Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his waist and drew him into a hug. He had to lean down to hug you properly, but he couldn’t have cared less. You felt tears behind your eyes, but fought them back. You managed to choke out, “I’m sorry, Jug,” and you meant it this time.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he whispered, “it’s okay that you got mad at me. I was mad at me.” He pulled back slightly and gestured to his face, “Like, I’m really bad at fighting, I was pissed I couldn’t defend you.” You let out a laugh and the tears you had been holding back fell onto your cheeks. He brushed them away the moment he saw them and fought the urge to kiss them away. You leaned in again, for another hug, and placed your head on his chest. His hand stroked your back soothingly and you were amazed by what a great friend he was to you. His ‘I-don’t-care’ attitude could be overwritten, just for you. That thought alone made you dangerously hopeful he liked you back. It stayed quiet a few moments longer, until you spoke up again. “Promise you won’t fight anymore?” You looked up at Jughead, and from this angle it looked like he was tired. “I can’t promise that Y/N, not if they keep making fun of you.” You swallowed hard at his words and thought about what to say next. You didn’t have to say anything though; Jughead was finished waiting and pushing his true feelings back. “It’s because I love you, that I can’t promise.” He whispered. You pulled back only enough to see his face, and saw the weight of his words in his eyes. Your lips curved into a smile and heat nipped at your cheeks.
“I love you too, Jug.” A small, but true smile crept it’s way to his lips. His hand came up to your jaw, then your cheek, resting it there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When do you have to go home?” He whispered, walking backwards and pulling you along with him. “Not for a while.” You murmured and Jughead nodded at he pulled you down to lay on his bed next to him. You smiled at him before carefully taking his hat off his head and running your fingers through his dark, thick hair. He closed his eyes and laid more comfortably beside you. He put one of his arms around your waist, pulling your side closer to his chest. You smiled at his actions and continued to play with his hair. “I’m crazy about you.” He murmured, kissing your cheek lazily. You let out a small laugh and watched as he fell asleep.