Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones
Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone.
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff.
A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors.
Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.
“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.
“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”
“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.
“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.
“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.
“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.
“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”
“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.
Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn’t make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.
“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.
She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”
“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.
“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.
“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.
Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.
She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”
Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.
“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.
“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.
She shook her head.
“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”
“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”
“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”
“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.
“You sure about that?” He asked again.
“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”
Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.
“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.
Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.
“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”
She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.
“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.
“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.
He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.
She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.
He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.
“Would it made a difference if I did?”
“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.
“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.
“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”
“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.
Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”
She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.
“Okay.” He replied.
“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.
“I’ll go out with you.”
“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”
Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.
He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.
“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.
“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.
Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”
“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.
She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”
“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”