You and have Jughead have been dating for a while when suddenly he becomes distant, and you discover it’s for more than one reason. This takes place around the time Jughead is living under the stairs. Based on the song by Dodie Clark
Warnings: so many emotions
Word count: 1,980
A/N: I really like building fics off of songs, so I might continue to do it. I wanted this one to be a bit more realistic, so it kind of follows the events of 1 x 07, just with the reader added in. I really tried to make it match the feeling of the song. I wouldn’t say no to any Jughead requests, just send me an ask!
what a strange being you are
god knows where i would be
if you hadn’t found me
sitting all alone in the dark
You were always the girl that was early, always the girl waiting for her friends to arrive so you could walk with them in the hallways. Archie, Veronica, Betty, and your boyfriend Jughead were your core group of friends. In fact, they seemed to be your only friends.
It was approaching your one year anniversary with Jughead, actually, and it’s taken you by surprise because time seems to pass faster here, especially with a boy you’ve only fallen deeper in love with every single day. It’s been almost one whole year since you moved to Riverdale and became absolutely smitten with the boy in the beanie. It only took him a week to ask you out, though, going from an enigma to your boyfriend in the span of a few days.
It was a fairy tale come to life, at least that’s what it seemed like to you. The dark brooding boy soon opened up to you about everything, and you did the same, forming a relationship built on trust. There were late night movies, walks down the river, sly glances and touches when with the group, cute nicknames, and wearing his beanie whenever you weren’t in public. Everyone knew you guys as a couple, “(Y/N) and Jughead against the world” they would say.
That all seemed to come to a crashing halt about about a month ago. You had noticed him becoming distant, drawing away from you at Pop’s and declining plans to hang out. It was like you barely existed in his world anymore, he seemed to take more of an interest in solving the murder now a days, and you didn’t seem to understand why. In turn, because you haven’t spoken that much you haven’t had the chance to tell him your parents were getting a divorce, and that you and your baby brother were going to live in separate households.
The day before your one year anniversary you walk into school promptly an hour before everyone else. You were always the girl that was early, always the girl that was waiting.
It was peaceful, in a sense. No one roaming the halls to crash into, the classrooms looking like ghost towns as you pass each one making your way to the stairwell at the end of the hall. You haven’t taken this path in a long time, and you’ve nearly forgotten what this intersection is like when it’s not packed with students.
You stop to glance into one of the rooms when there’s a sudden creak of hinges behind you. You turn around to see no one else but Jughead, hair tangled and old worn clothes on. He had a towel in his hand along with a toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Jug? What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to piece together the puzzle right before your eyes. In this moment your boyfriend seemed to transform right back into that enigma he had been when you first met.
“Making use of the schools state-of-the-art-facilities…” he replies unconvincingly, unable to make eye contact.
“Jug…” you make your way towards him, and he doesn’t object when you move him aside. He was living like Harry Potter, a boy under the staircase. There was a make shift cot with some of his shirts and his backpack, only the bare essentials.
“Have you been living here?” you ask. The question wasn’t accusatory, but filled with hurt that your boyfriend hadn’t felt like he could come to you about this. He knew that both of your parents loved him, he knew they would take him in, so why hadn’t he talked to you about it?
“Please don’t tell anyone, (Y/N), please.” he pleads, pulling you out of the closet gently by the arm, looking into your eyes.
“Tell? I wouldn’t tell, Jug.” I assure him, pulling him into a hug. He wraps his arms around me and for some reason I feel as if he needs this moment more than me. I pull away and look him in the eyes, “but why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, daring him to tell me something wasn’t going on.
“It’s not your burden to bare.” he says, “walk me to the showers?”
“Jug, you’re my boyfriend, you could have stayed with me.” I tell him, saying the words we both knew out loud.
He takes my hand and begins pulling me down the hallway towards the boys locker rooms in the gym.
“And that’s the exact reason I didn’t tell you.” he says, “I don’t want you to feel responsible for me.”
You reach the showers and lean in to give him a light peck on the lips before he disappears inside. You realize that if you hadn’t shown up to school early, or been by the staircase, you never would have found out. Jughead wouldn’t have told you.
While he’s in the shower, you wander back down the hall to the closet under the stairs. You open and close the door, letting the darkness fall around you as you sit on his mattress.
It’s only when you feel the dampness on your cheeks that you realize you’ve started crying. You grab a hold of one of his sweatshirts and pull it close, crumpling it in your arms to get the most of his scent. You haven’t realized how much you’ve missed his scent, missed him telling you everything, no matter how bad it was.
The door opens sooner than expected and Jughead is staring down at you, now in his jeans and t-shirt.
“I’m going to need that back.” he says with a small smirk, not noticing your tear stained cheeks. You try to avoid sniffling, but whatever made you start to cry hasn’t let you stop.
He ruffles his hair in the makeshift mirror before finally taking notice, and as soon as he does his arms are around you, holding you close. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. Your head rests on his chest as he draws circles with his thumb on your arm.
“Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third,” you scold, looking up at him. All of your resolve melts as you see him looking back at you, “I’ve missed you.” you whisper.
“I’ve missed you too, princess.” he says. He holds you there until the school bell rings.
what the hell would i be without you?
brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth
“Call my dad.” he says as he passes you, Archie and Betty in the hallway later that day.
“Of course.” you and Betty respond at the same time.
You and your friends make their way down to the station not soon after. You’ve tried his dad’s cell at least half a dozen times, and his home phone is going straight to voicemail. You’re the first one into see Jug when you get there.
“I didn’t do it, you have to believe me.” he says as soon as you walk in. His hands are clasped tightly together on the desk. His voice is rigid yet calm, and you can tell that he’s doing everything he can to maintain his composure.
“Of course I believe you, Jug. All the evidence they have is circumstantial.” you say, reaching your hands out to grasp his. You can see the release of tension almost immediately on contact. He lets out a sigh and looks up at you with lost eyes.
“Is my dad here yet?” he asks. He seems desperate, grasping at the idea that his father may have actually showed up for once. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed in the past month, it was how Jug’s father was absolute shit at being a dad.
“Archie’s dad is here with him, so is Betty.” you break the news, intertwining your fingers with his. He looks down and nods, not saying anything.
Not soon after, Jughead is released, thanks to Archie’s dad. You walk out of the station hand in hand with him, when you see his father walking up towards you.
In a blink of an eye Jughead has released your hand and is facing off with his father. “He’s my son-” you hear among the chaos, “let me give them a piece of my mind-” You have to take a deep breath and refrain yourself from telling off his dad in front of everyone. Everything stops as Jughead looks his father dead in the eyes, and then back to you. You stand next to him, intertwining your fingers with his. Jug pulls you away before anything else can be said, leading you towards your house.
He doesn’t say a word all the way there, but you can feel his hand shaking in yours, his other hand going to his eyes every few minutes to wipe away what you could only expect were tears.
“Jug-” you begin, but he stops you with a kiss. It was soft and gentle, with all of the emotion he had been holding in for the past month suddenly placed upon your lips. You let the moment pass in silence, and when he releases your lips you notice his eyes have become red and slightly puffy.
You envelope him in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close, his head tucked into the crook of your neck. He’s shaking against you, so you just hold him. You would hold him until the world ends, even if it was falling apart around you.
You silently pull him inside, walking up the stairs to your bedroom.
You lay down next to each other, falling into position as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back drawing the circles you love so much. His eyes aren’t as red anymore. You look up to him and give him a small peck on the lips.
“Don’t leave me.” he whispers against your lips.
“Why would I ever do that?” you ask, smiling softly.
“Because I’ve been lying to you this entire time.” he says, holding you so tight because he feels that if he lets go he might lose you forever.
“I don’t care, Jug. You’re here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” you tell him, reassuring that you aren’t planning on moving any time soon.
i can finally see you’re as fucked up as me
so how do we win?
Jughead spent the night into your one year anniversary. You couldn’t send him back to the school, and he certainly didn’t seem in a rush to get back to the house. You hadn’t realized how deep his demons had gotten in the past month, and now that you had you weren’t going to let them get any deeper.
“Where were your parents last night?” he asks as you lay there in the morning, a bundle of limbs and the clothes from the night before. His beanie next to him on the pillow, his hair out and wild. His hair without his beanie was so much better, you decided.
“I guess we both haven’t told each other things.” you admit, “they’re getting a divorce. It’s been pretty bad.” you snuggle in closer, trying to block out the rest of the world.
“Now why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.
“Don’t quote me back to me,” you chuckle, “you seemed pre-occupied, with the murder and everything. Your novel.”
“(Y/N),” he says, shifting the position so that you’re looking in his eyes, “Nothing could ever be more important than you. Ever. From here on out. I promise.” he says firmly, gripping you tight.
“I promise, Jug.” You repeated, placing a kiss on his lips, cementing that promise for not only your first year, but many years to come.
Maybe there’s a God above But all I’ve ever learned from love Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you And it’s not a cry that you hear at night It’s not somebody who’s seen the light It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
I’m really sick of the culture of romanticizing painful, awful, emotionally abusive love. I hate songs that are like “I know I’m awful to you, but it’s just because I love you so much.” I hate quotes that are like “real love is sadness and fighting and blah blah blah.” I hate it.
Shut the FUCK up. Just shut up. Love shouldn’t be painful and angry. Love shouldn’t make you doubt yourself. It shouldn’t tear you down. It shouldn’t be about seeing who can hurt the other more. It shouldn’t be a game of “you fucked me over so now I’m gonna fuck you over worse.” That’s not love.
I’m not saying relationships are always easy. They are hard, they take work. We’re all human and sometimes we hurt each other. But you apologize. You grow. You don’t play blame games. You don’t belittle the other persons feelings.
It’s about being a team. It’s about supporting each other. It’s about encouraging someone to grow into the best version of themselves. It’s about looking for the best in each other. It’s about being two whole people who come together because life is a little sweeter that way. It’s about effort and encouragement and happiness. It’s about making simple things fun because you’re doing them together.
Love should never make you feel bad about yourself. Love should never make you hurt to the point that you start to believe you deserve to hurt. Love isn’t like that. Love like that is bullshit.
Love should glow. It should be a warmth. It should be a safe house. It should be kind. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.