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cynicalkairos · 5 years

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Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

CHAPTER THREE

Word Count: 2333

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism and drinking alcohol, implications of drinking alcohol, language (as always), brief mentions of violence, self-doubt

Summary: Days have passed and the others watch Ted and Henry fall apart without each other. This is Ted’s chapter.

A/N: This is a bit longer than expected, but it’s okay. Enjoy a hint of fluff in this angst.

Previous || Next

———

Days passed and Emma watched as both Henry and Ted deteriorated into former shells of themselves.

Without any surprise from the other residents in the house, Ted regressed back into his heavy drinking habits and reputation as an alcoholic. Bottles and bottles of liquor disappeared almost as quickly as the fight occurred and it was not too long before Ted emerged and claimed more. He moved into one of the spare rooms and spent most of his time there, drinking and relishing in the alcoholic haze that ensued. Emma attempted to talk to him, but he refused to talk to her because he thought that Henry sent her to talk to him. He closed the door on her time after time, only to relish in his drunken stupor once more.

As a last resort, Emma convinced Paul to talk to him, hoping that his friendship with Ted helped. Paul stood in front of the door nervously and went to knock on the door until it flung open rapidly. Ted leaned on the door and nonchalantly looked at Paul. He reeked of alcohol and sweat and he looked absolutely plastered. His hair fell in his face and he almost had a complete beard on his face. Ted cleared his throat and said, “What the fuck do you want? Is this another stupid attempt to get me to apologize to Henry?”

Paul’s eyes widened and he shook his head violently. “I just want to talk. Emma told me what happened and…I wanted to hear your side.”

Ted raised an eyebrow and chewed on his lip, before letting Paul inside. The room was filthy with alcohol littered everywhere and everything in total disarray. Ted closed the door behind him and stumbled over to the bed, sitting down abruptly and asking, “So, what do you want to know?”

Paul stood in the corner and placed his hands in his pockets, thinking about what he was going to say, before settling on, “How did it start?”

“If you’re looking for some juicy gossip—”

“I just want the truth,” Paul admitted. “You look like shit and it’s not a good look on you.”

“Gee, thanks, Paul.”

“No problem. Look, we’re all worried about you. I am, Alice is, Bill and Charlotte are most definitely are, even Emma is.”

“And? Why should I care? If I knew that you were just going to guilt me into—”

“Just stop!” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Ted, stop. I’m here for your sake. Look at yourself. You’re stuck in this shithole because you can’t say three simple words.”

“We both know it’s not that easy. Besides, it’s not like Henry wants to speak to me anyway.”

“You know better than I do that he does. I bet he’s more worried about you than himself.”

Ted scoffed. “No, he’s not. He’s probably worried about saving the world more than me.”

“Stop with that bullshit. He is. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

Ted went quiet for a second, scratching the side of his head and nodding, saying, “Okay, whatever.”

“Alright, then,” Paul started and trailed off while gathering his thoughts. “Back to the beginning, how did this all start?”

After a while, Paul decided he was not telling him, so he turned to leave. Just then, Ted said, “It was really late one night about a week ago...”

———

It was when Ted heard footsteps in the bedroom that he knew Henry was in the room after he exited the shower. He looked at his watch and the time read, 10:06. Now, this would have been a normal occurrence had it been for Henry’s absence throughout the late morning and the entirety of afternoon and evening. Ted frowned as he wrapped the towel around his waist, wiping away a gap in a mirror to look at himself. He tossed his hair and after being satisfied with the results, walked into the bedroom.

Henry was taking off his shoes and placing them on his shoe rack, walking around the room and putting things in their rightful places. While doing this, Ted took in Henry’s figure. He looked different somehow like he’d been outside. The knees on his pants were covered with dirt and dust as was the rest of his clothes really upon further investigation. His hair was matted down with something, but he couldn’t tell what. Henry just looked...different and Ted didn’t know how to word how.

Henry noticed Ted’s presence after a minute and cleared his throat, a blush creeping up on his cheeks when seeing his intent gaze on him. He looked away to place his watch on the dresser, saying, “Oh, hi, Ted. What’re you doing?”

Ted snapped out of his trance and then regained his composure, before sauntering over to Henry and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Just enjoying the view, babe.”

“I figured,” Henry replied, turning around to face Ted and wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Where were you? You missed dinner. I was worried.”

“I apologize for causing you grief, but I was just working.”

“I checked in the lab and you weren’t there.”

“I... was out in the garden. Must’ve taken longer than I thought.”

Ted didn’t believe him but nodded anyway, pressing a kiss on his forehead and then his cheek. “Just tell me next time, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

Henry pulled Ted in and kissed him gently out of reassurance. All of Ted’s concern for the situation melted away as the kiss deepened and he felt the fabric of his partner’s turtleneck press against his chest. Henry ran a hand through his hair and Ted rubbed circles into Henry’s hips. Soon, Henry broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Ted’s.

The two of them stayed in that position for a while, swaying slowly to no particular rhythm. Neither of them knew that they were moving unless someone else interrupted the moment to let them know that they were about to run into a coffee table or they noticed that they moved from one spot to another. This just occurred naturally as Henry or Ted never stopped moving. Henry seemed to always be darting from one place to another with some sort of idea that his mind manufactured and Ted’s mouth seemed to never cease talking.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to take a shower,” Henry said after recognizing his surrounding once more and separated from Ted just enough to look him in the eye.

“Okay. Don’t take too long,” Ted replied and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Ted let Henry leave his arms and he watched him go. He sighed and changed, before getting into bed. He knew that Henry was hiding something from him, but he didn’t want to pry. On the other hand, he needed to know if he was okay. So, Ted got in bed and left only the lamp next to him on.

Henry returned soon after his shower in sweatpants. That was when Ted saw the damage. “Holy shit,” Ted thought to himself as he examined his partner from afar. Henry’s arms were covered in scratches and bruises with some looking deeper than others, but the most notable mark on his body was a large bruise on his shoulder. More damage was scattered across his back, refuting the lie of gardening.

“So,” Ted spoke up, startling Henry and making him almost drop the shirt he was holding. “I didn’t know gardening was that rough, Hen.”

Henry looked up at him in surprise and quickly pulled the shirt on. “Ted! I thought you were asleep.”

“Nope. I’m clearly not. Are you going to tell me how all that happened?”

Henry walked over to the bed and sat down on the end of it, opposite of Ted, before responding by saying, “In the morning. You looked tired.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Ted said, glaring at Henry the entire time and not averting his gaze. “So, what were you doing?”

“I went on a supply run.”

Ted’s brow furrowed and his jaw fell slack slightly out of shock, before mustering up the words to say, “Without me?”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know how dangerous they can be.”

“Yeah, I can see that! Henry, I don’t care about getting hurt as long as I know I’m there to protect you.”

“I know, but—”

“Henry, babe. It’s not safe out there. You shouldn't have gone alone.”

“I was going to ask you, but—”

“But what?”

“Can’t you understand that I didn’t want you to get hurt?” Henry asked too loudly, tears brimming his eyes. He crawled forward and laid next to Ted on the bed. Henry took Ted’s hand with both of his and stroked it gently with his thumb. “I just wanted to protect you.”

“And I can’t protect you if I don’t go with you.”

“I know. I apologize for not asking you to go with me.”

“Okay,” Ted replied after a beat, bringing Henry’s hands to kiss them. “What happened to your chest, babe?”

“I got in a fight. It was mainly debris or other minor things.”

“And that bruise?”

“Well, one found some type of a blunt object and then hit my shoulder with it,” Henry confessed, looking at the sheets. “It’s fine, though. I killed it quickly and escaped.”

“Good.” Ted smiled and moved under the covers. opening up the blanket for Henry to crawl underneath. Henry joined him and engulfed Ted in a tight embrace. The smile on their faces only grew as Ted held Henry equally as tight and Henry buried his head into his neck, falling asleep in no time at all.

———

“I found out the next morning that not only did he get some of the things that we were running out of, but he also found a sample from a dead one and brought it back. And ever since that night, it’s been...tense. We both kind of avoided each other unconsciously. I know I should’ve apologized, but...”

While Ted talked, Paul could not help but sympathize with him. He tried to imagine what that was like and his heart sped up at the thought of Emma getting hurt or risking anything for him. And Paul knew that she would do it without hesitation.

He remembered that night that Ted described at dinner. For once, he was quiet and it was strange. Paul hated to admit it, but Ted kept the conversation going without awkwardness, whether it just be him and Henry talking or Ted replying sarcastically to someone else. That night, he just stared silently at Henry’s seat, occasionally putting spoonfuls of food into his mouth. Worry was plastered across his face. Emma tried to talk to him about it, but it took Charlotte to calm him down and convince him to try to sleep. That night and the past few days only showed how much Ted truly loved Henry, even if neither of them saw that.

Paul frowned when he heard Ted pause and put his head in his hands. He rubbed his face and looked at the floor. Paul noticed that Ted was crying when continuing, “Paul, I know this sounds fucking stupid, but… I’m scared. He’s the one good thing in my life right now. I don’t want to lose him to this stupid, alien thing. I… love him, Paul. I love him so fucking much. I can’t stand to think that he could die and I wasn’t there to stop it. He’s the strong one. He can go out there and be brave and shit. Me? I’ve been sitting here drunk off my ass most of the time and feeling sorry for myself.”

“Then why don’t you talk to him? I’m sure he feels the same”

Ted’s head turned quickly to look at him, but then lowered after a moment. “I can’t. I’m not good with apologies. I can’t— I can’t do it. He’ll just stay with out of pity or break up with me for being so pathetic.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Paul thought. One thing that was for sure was the overall change in Ted’s demeanor from being in a relationship with Henry. The Ted that he remembered back in the days before the apocalypse would never open his heart and pour out all of his feelings to anyone, especially Paul. He barely knew Ted, yet the man that sat in front of him confessing his fear of losing the man he loved to the point of crying varied drastically from the scumbag that hit on anything that would walk in his direction. Although the drinking habit remained, the Ted back then never admitted defeat, putting the blame on the people who denied his advances.

And he knew that Henry was the cause of the change.

He then walked over and sat next to Ted, pushing some empty bottles out of the way. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts and said, “I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit, Ted. I can tell from what Emma has told me and…things that I’ve seen that he’s head over heels for you and, from what you just told me, I think that you’re excellent at apologies. You just don’t believe that you are capable of being forgiven or even loved. Maybe you even blame yourself for what happened, I don’t know. But, just tell him what you told me and you should be fine.”

“Thanks, Paul,” Ted looked at him and grinned wildly while opening his arms for a hug. “Come here, big guy.”

Ted hugged him tightly and Paul never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He just patted Ted on the back and attempted to move away from the hug as soon as possible.

Once Ted let go, Paul stood up and turned to him, saying, “Just get some sleep and… shower, definitely shower before going to talk to him.”

“Will do.”

———

A/N: Hope you like it!

#tedgens #professor hidgens x ted #paulkins #paul matthews x emma perkins #henry hidgens #ted richards #paul matthews #emma perkins #snaff tedgens #oof i wrote a lot #but i love them

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bugheadfamily · 6 years

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🎶Boys and girls of every age

Wouldn't you like to read something great?

Clink the links & you will read

These some fics of Halloween.🎶

Hey Buggies, the song & dance is over (literally), but the fics are still here! Below you’ll find a list of both supernatural/spooky seasonal type fics & Halloween specific ones (marked with a 🎃). After the trick-or-treating is over (but before the candy hangover sets in) get your Halloween fic fix here below the cut!

🎃 10.31.17 by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

On that night, when the veil is at its thinnest, he finds his way home.

body talks by @justcourbeau | NR

Instead of late morning light being his wake up call, Jughead was woken by the horrendous chirp of an alarm clock going off, and, really, that should have been the first sign that something was wrong.

Cooper's Monsters by @cooperandjonesinc | M

In the darkened halls of an abandoned mental hospital Dr. Hal Cooper has been making monsters.Betty, oblivious to her father’s machinations, comes across a horrifying creature. Together can they stop the doctor and free the others?

Curl of Ash by @darknessaroundus | T

Jughead attempts to save a strangers life in Queens one night. Nothing is what it appears to be.

Darkside by @exmachina187, @itsmarscosta | E

Jughead has had centuries to reflect on his life, but none of it had meaning until she came along.

🎃 Dirty Devil by @thesecretfandom | E

Betty and Jughead are celebrating Halloween, but their costumes seem to be interfering with their fun.

Dust & Desire by @darknessaroundus | T

They have a rhythm to their days, the result of having very little company but each other for years now. When Betty wakes from the nap, they eat mac and cheese before they go hunting. A Vampire Slayer AU.

erase & rewind by @sopaloma | M

When a powerful storm hits Riverdale, five students are hit by lightning as they leave school. The result of that storm will change their lives forever, in ways they never could have imagined. A Misfits AU.

🎃 go home people (the party's not over) by Anonymous | T

“It was your dad’s idea,” Betty chirped. “He told my mom that if people were going to stare at us she may as well make it worth her while.” Jughead bit back a sigh. “And she said ‘like what, throw a party’? And he said ‘sure, Alice, the perfect holiday is coming up’.”

🎃 Hollowed Hearts by @kmlefev | T

Betty and Jughead have a pumpkin carving contest.

🎃 Howling by @lovedinapastlife | T

Jughead's working a shift at the Blossom haunted house when he spots a familiar blonde ponytail and decides to try and give her a scare. He ends up smashed in the face, real blood added to his costume. Horrified, Betty tries to make it up to him. She's nervous to finish the house by herself, so Jughead offers to let her work on a few scenes and scares with him until Archie comes back from his break. There's nothing quite like method acting with a childhood crush and best friend when hearts are pounding and limbs are entangled in a ravenous display. Something's building inside of them, a low, penetrating howl.

🎃 I Don't Have a Lot of Friends by @typing123 | M

Joker Jughead and Harley Betty meet at a Halloween Party. It's definitely a treat.

Interview with the Coopers by @typing123 | E

What a perfect little family they make

🎃 It's A Great Pumpkin, Jughead Jones by @alisoncollis | NR

Jughead and Betty go to a pumpkin patch.

i will hang on the hook of your splendour by @jughead-jones/@stark | G

“We have to go up to Woodland House tomorrow,” Betty said, hopping out of the back of the van the night before, dressed in something that she called summer sleepwear and Jughead deemed to be sweet torture. “There has to be a clue there about these abductions.”Mystery Inc AU

🎃 Let the Right One In by @yavannie | T

When Jellybean talks Jughead into going to a Halloween-themed birthday party in Greendale, she does such a good job on his make-up that not even his best friend can tell it's him.

🎃 love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little girl like you) by @whaticameherefor | G

Jughead always thought that falling in love would feel like a punch to the gut. It didn’t, of course. It was more like a punch to the face. Right in the nose, to be exact.

🎃 Magic in the Air by @it-happened-one-starry-night | M

A tale from Riverdale. Betty and Jughead learn something interesting about the earlier inhabitants of their tiny town. Later, they attend a Halloween party together at the Blossom Mansion.

🎃 Movie Night on Elm Street by @bettsc | NR

Jughead Jones finds himself at the Cooper household on Halloween night, and it's not just the scary movies that are giving him goosebumps.

🎃 No Guts No Glory by @thesecretfandom | E

Jughead may have taken their pumpkin carving competition a bit too far, and now it's Betty's job to get the both of them cleaned up.

🎃 Nobody Knows You Now by @bettsc | M

They moved like this for what seemed like hours; neither one relenting to the other; both losing themselves in the intertwining of two souls.

🎃 october 2017 by @elizabethbettscooper | G

“Jug, you’re home!” she glanced up, grinning at him. He nudged off his shoes and started towards her.

“So it seems.” he said, smirking and dropped onto the floor beside her. “What’s up, Betts?”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? I want to go to the pumpkin patch.”

“The… pumpkin patch.” Jughead raised an eyebrow and put his arm across the sofa seat, leaning in to look at Betty’s planner.

🎃 Over the Wall by @typing123 | T

The Over the Garden Wall AU nobody asked for.

Palm Readings and You [AO3] by @soylent-greene | G

Fall AU - In a world where Jason never died and Riverdale never fell into chaos, Jughead and Betty come across a palm-reading who will change their perspectives on life and bring them closer than they ever were before, or ever wanted to be.

🎃 Pumpkin Spice (and all things nice) by @itsindiansummer13 | G

Jughead, Betty, and Halloween through the years.

Seek Forbidden Things by @maeve-of-winter | T

Kevin Keller has gone missing from Riverdale, and it's up to Betty and the rest of the gang to bring him back.

🎃 Self control by @bettyscooperr | NR

Jughead just really hates Halloween

Spirits, Are You There? by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

An abandoned asylum, plus a ouija board, plus Cheryl Blossom? The perfect potion.

strange days by @sopaloma

His sister is missing, his dad is talking to Christmas lights and Betty Cooper needs his help. November 1983 is a strange time for Jughead Jones. A Stranger Things AU.

🎃 The Cooper House by @satelliteinasupernova | T

“Let’s go to a haunted house, Jughead,” Jellybean had said. “It’ll be fun,” she said.

Except, now he was turned around somewhere in a dark hallway; alone. With no source of light nearby, he could barely make out his surroundings. Tentatively, he reached out to use the wall to guide him, taking one step at a time. The surface of the wall was uneven and with each step he felt another notch as his hand moved across one panel of wood to the next. The floor creaked softly under his feet. Here in the dark, it was unnervingly quiet. The only other sound he could hear was of the wind passing through the trees outside the house.

“Hey, JB?” he called out. “Where the hell did you go?”

🎃 The First Halloween Since by @typing123 | G

Single Mom Betty doesn't think she can face Halloween this year. She just wants a quiet night in with her daughter. Jughead's not so sure.

🎃 The Mouse by @typing123 | G

A hungry Jughead is lured into the woods on Halloween by a hungry vampire.

🎃 The One That I Want by @dreamersshouldknowbetter | T

Betty and Jughead meet at a Halloween party where they accidentally form two halves of a couples costume

the strange death of Elizabeth Cooper by @wolfofansbach | T

Betty Cooper, after a long struggle with illness, has passed away. Except--she hasn't, because against all rhyme and reason, she awakens on the coroner's slab, hale and healthy. The illness is gone, and she couldn't be in better condition, to the weeping relief of her friends and family, not least of all her longtime boyfriend, Jughead Jones. No real explanation is forthcoming, but what does it really matter, when Betty is alive? And he can discount the occasional oddity in her behavior. She's been through a lot, after all. Except, as the days go by and the strange happenings pile on, Jughead begins to suspect that whatever it is that crawled out of the grave that day isn't really Betty Cooper.

🎃 the unexpected perks of being a pumpkin by @thetaoofbetty | M

Jughead Jones has a damn good Halloween.

🎃 Things that Go Bump in the Night by @createandconstruct | T

Are sometimes things that also squeal...

Time Honoured Tradition by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

When Cheryl dares Betty to spend some time in the abandoned house across the street she gets a little more than she bargained for.

What Happened on Elm Street by @tory-b | M

When Jughead Jones moves to Riverdale with his family, he uncovers a few mysteries this simple small town has been trying to cover up--specifically the murder that occurred in his house during the late 1950s that was never properly solved. Unable to keep his curiosity away, he teams up with neighbor and fellow mystery lover Betty Cooper to uncover the truth.

🎃 what we pretend to be by @sylwrites | G

It's his little sister's first Halloween, but his parents don't have money for a costume or the time to take her trick-or-treating. The answer to both of these problems comes in the form of his best friend's neighbour.

🎃 What's Your Favourite Scary Movie? by @gellsbellshead | T

Betty Cooper doesn't do scary movies. However maybe she could be persuaded by some cuddling from her boyfriend Jughead. This is a continuation of the fic "Movie Night"

🎃 when things go bump and grind at night by @rainystripe | M

Betty dresses up and Jughead is her slave.

🎃 won't you tell me what you're thinking of? by @flwrpotts | G

Betty enlists Jughead, Reggie, and Archie to help her set up for the annual Riverdale middle school Halloween dance.

Still haven’t satisfied your itch for Halloween fics? Check out our fanfic tag on @buggiebreak! Our Halloween event, Vice and Virtues, is going on and you can find fics posted exclusively to Tumblr there!

#bughead #betty x jughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #bughead fic rec #riverdale #betty cooper #jughead jones #halloween #fanfic #fic rec #masterlist #*admin

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fallenesspoetry · 6 years

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Venus and the Wolf (A Blindspot AU)

Summary:

A Roman/Tasha AU story, in which Jane’s memory hasn’t been wiped yet. Instead, she’s missing and presumed dead after the Orion mission had been taken down. A story, in which Roman makes a different decision, and a story, in which Tasha already is an undercover agent for the CIA, posing as an identity dealer.

It’s based on the scene in 2/17 when Roman remembers staring at Alice’s name at the papers for the trust fund (with the bank in the Bahamas) he was asked to cash out, sobbing.

A collab with @eachdressiown (Roman), I'm writing Tasha's POV.

Warning: Swearing.

Chapter Two “A Venus on Ice”

The heat was unbearably stifling, literally crunching on the tip of the tongue, its gritty taste rolling in the mouth. The sky was cloudless, and the sun shone in its full force, leaving no chance for the weather to change into something more humid.

A young woman stretched herself in the chair, desperately wishing the heat to slacken at least for a tiny bit. Her day had just started, so she had, at best, ten hours to go. Or more, if it was a busy day. But it seemed some people were followed by a trouble, so every day had become a busy one quite too often.

Usually, the clientele started coming in ranting how fast they needed the things done and refusing to agree on the price. It never ceased to amaze her how ridiculously dumb most of the people were. No one could comprehend a simple truth:

If you want to get something, you need to give something in return.

It was as simple as that. You could bend the rules, break the laws, but in the end of the day there was always something you had to give up.

The woman clicked the remote, lowering the temperature on the AC, not really expecting it would help. Just as it hadn't helped at all for the past hour. Right now she wished nothing more than to sink into the icy cold bath.

Her outfit made her even more irritated: the white tank top was clinging to her body, and denim shorts almost itched the skin. Her dark straight hair was pinned at the back into a messy knot, a few loose strands tickling her wet neck from time to time. But she couldn't care less about appearing unprofessional.

Anyway, lots of her clients were often hanging by a thread, and judging by their you-are-my-last-hope looks, they could have been fine even if she were naked. She just needed to make them dissolve as if they had never existed.

There was something rough about this particular woman. One could say various tests at the FBI and later at the CIA had certainly left their mark on her: a fit and tough figure as well as outstanding marksman skills made her an invaluable asset for any kind of an op. Especially off-the-books ops.

It was no time though, when the untamable nature got the best of her. Soon enough she got sick of constantly getting under one's thumb and being dependent on someone's dirty secrets.

And so, here she was, in Bahamas, running a business — well, not exactly a business — but it was much better than slaving on one's behalf in the middle of nowhere, risking to be thrown away at the exact second the things went sideways.

Just as she came back with an ice cube taken from the fridge, now pressing its refreshing coldness to her neck, sliding it back and forth, the phone rang.

The number was unknown. Well, it didn't matter. She would answer it anyway.

“¡Hola, señorita! ¿Cómo estás?” cheerfully wondered a cheeky voice, with raspy softness to it, masked by a quite decent Spanish pronunciation. She immediately recognized it:

Richdotcom.

For the past few years she got used to this man's eccentric way of having a conversation. She had to, anyway, since they both had started off this small ‘enterprise’.

Together they developed an intricately sophisticated way of bypassing any kind of security measures allowing to craft a completely untraceable new identity for those in need.

Her business partner was the most skillful hacker of the century who breached dozens of secure and unbreachable systems. And she was the rogue CIA agent going off the radar.

“What's up, Rich?” the woman asked, sounding as nice and polite as she could. Actually, the time went by and she got to like him, but it didn't change the fact he was nothing but a pain in the ass.

“Cold as ever, huh, Toots?”

“I swear if you call me anything but Tasha…”

“Would you mind to keep going? I don't want that ice cube to be wasted,” completely ignoring her, leisurely said Rich, his voice getting silkier and raspier.

“What if my gun is accidentally stuck somewhere it doesn't belong? What do you say about that?”

“I'll say, I'm all game for a good gun-play.”

Un-fucking-believable!

Just as Tasha thought about it, Rich continued:

“As much as I like to chat with you, I actually have a job here.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“So, the lead came from a guy we both know, so it should be solid. Let me double-check real quick...”

Rich made a pause, and Tasha heard the drumming strokes followed by occasional ‘What the…’ and “You're fucking kidding me!”

Meanwhile, the ice cube between her fingers had melted into a liquid. It trickled down her neck to her cleavage, tickling her a bit. She put the phone on a speaker mode, and rose, walking to take another one or two.

The sun seemed to penetrate with its scorching fingers even though the closed curtains. It felt as if one was trapped in the microwave, which was getting hotter and hotter with every second.

The place once was a two-storied flower shop, but Tasha and Rich expanded it into a cozy two-bedroom apartment on the second floor, and the office on the first floor.

For all the nosy go-byers there was a sign that this building was currently on sale, but the price was so sky-high that soon enough no one even dared asking for an estimate. There were a lot of much more cheaper options, and soon enough everyone had just quit to come. Rich also made sure the mayor didn't bother them too. Rumors travelled fast, so only those who had an urgent matter of disappearing from the radars could find their way in here.

Despite the house had been mostly her office for seven days a week, 365 days a year, Tasha liked it. It reminded her a bit if her own apartment with its minimalistic decor, yet preserving the coziness she remembered since that time.

Finally, sounding extremely angry, Rich hissed through his teeth:

“We have a problem. A fucking serious problem.”

Tasha had never heard him talking like that. Hell, she couldn't even remember when it was the last time Rich got angry over something.

“What is it? It can't be that bad, can it?”

“I can't confirm this fucking passport. Not a single trace. It's a damn fake! A good fake, actually. It took me a lot of effort to crack it. It's as fake as the whore's...”

“Please, don't even… So what do we do?”

“‘We’ don't do anything. You, on the other hand, have to meet with this guy. Because according to our idiotic middleman, this fella is on his way to you.”

Tasha got used to different kinds of clients as some of them were either thugs or complete jerks. But this time her gut told her that the guy she was about to meet was a different story. And certainly, confident as hell.

We'll see about that, — thought Tasha to herself. Rich was still murmuring curses as he fiercely typed something. Soon her laptop dinged with a few emails.

“I hate to bring it up, but what if he's… Well, he gets here, sees the place. He could be anyone, you know. What do you want me to do then, Rich?”

To be honest, such things happened not too often, but happened. Just like at any job, there were some complications. And in her line of work, these complications acquired a physical embodiment. It wasn't foreign for Tasha to kill in cold blood and cover her tracks, but it had become very much tiresome.

“Listen, we've talked about this. I'm not a big fan of dead bodies. That's why you get your extra clean up fee, right?”

Well, it was true. Leaning back on the chair, stroking her neck and arms with the ice, she said:

“I'm hoping you're right. I'd really hate to stick to my gun-play promise.”

They said good-byes and hang up. Just as Tasha was checking her gun, she noticed it became dark outside.

Apparently, the sun had finally hid behind a thick set of clouds slowly floating by. The clouds seemed to stall and become filthy gray, but it wasn't raining yet.

But Tasha didn't have time to admire the view as rushed to hide the case boxes with files. Once she was done, she also cleaned any papers left on every shiny surface in the office. A few of her other guns had been also re-loaded, and sticked with tape under the table and the chair.

For obvious reasons there was no alarm, but a special self-destruction protocol and other security measures had been in place. All the files being deleted, one could remotely set the house on fire by provoking an electric circuit failure.

Satisfied with how well she had prepared for her 'guest', Tasha took a quick shower and changed into another pair of shorts and another tank top, this time black.

Just as she got back to her laptop to open the email from Rich, the doorbell rang.

She rose, hiding the gun behind her back, and walked to the door. Pausing for a second, the woman took a deep breath, put on a polite smile and turned the doorknob.

Tasha blinked, making sure it was real.

The man, probably in his early thirties, stood in the doorway, curving his lip in an undecipherable grin.

He perfectly blended in with the environment, wearing a pale-blue shirt, loosened the way one could notice a hard, defined six-pack, and a pair of light shorts as well as sneakers.

Once he saw the door opened, he idly took his cap and sunglasses off, meeting her with the keen gaze of his light brown eyes with a bit green to them. His oval face was slightly tanned, and he had a one-day bristle. Grinning, he looked like a well-fed cat, glowing with a smug satisfaction.

One thing was certain — this man was making her skin crawl. She had dealt before with the most unpleasant and, sometimes, very horrifying men. But he... He was different. The inner strength was emanating from him, though she wouldn’t say he was a typical 'muscle' type.

The stranger was a bit taller than her — almost six feet. His fit figure, wide shoulders and well-defined muscular arms indicated he was always on the move, letting his vigorous self free.

Tasha had an odd feeling she could have known him. But, of course, that wasn't true.

He had something vaguely familiar about him. Was it his roughness reminding Tasha of her own untamed nature? Or, perhaps, the lone wolf-like intense stare?

He kept himself at ease, but she felt he was putting up a show. No, it wasn't nerves — Tasha was sure he was pretty much confident about himself as such a man could be.

The thing was, she sensed this particular man had a bunch of very unpleasant reasons to hide behind this carefree mask.

Meanwhile, the guy was shamelessly checking her out, not even bothering she would notice it. Well, she was used to get dirty looks so it wasn’t a big deal. Those who dared to cross the line got a set of a painful punches resulting in a few broken ribs. This guy hadn’t crossed it yet, so he might enjoy himself while he still could.

Returning him a smile, Tasha noticed a long and thin scar on his cheek. The wound edges were rigid, as if someone was using a piece of glass to cut him. The scar made him look even more dangerous and somehow attractive.

Certainly, this guy was constantly alert, always aware of the situation, and if needed, he could struck swiftly and ruthlessly. His veined, skillful hands with spider-like fingers, lean and long, had told the story to anyone who had a keen eye — he was undoubtedly capable of killing someone, no weapon needed. And one hadn’t needed to guess what happened to the person leaving him with the scar.

At least he seems to know what he wants.

Because most of the time the clients coming in here were nothing but a hopeless whining pieces of shit. It felt good to meet a man like him for a change.

Something told her, things were going to get very interesting.

TBC

#blindspot #nbcblindspot #roman briggs #tasha zapata #fanfic #fanfiction #blindspot fanfic #roman x tasha #au #collab #the blindspot fanfiction #mine

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purplecatterpiller · 6 years

Text

The Storm (Part one)

A thick wall of white swirled around the truck shaking it as she drove cautiously down the old dirt road. It was late in the day but the blizzard was just beginning to settle in for the long cold November night. Making out what was the side of the road versus the actual road was becoming more and more difficult. Even the trees seemed to have a trouble telling the sky from the earth as the swayed. Hitting a pothole She felt the wheels of the truck pull in one direction. Holding her breath she did her best to turn into the skid. It came out clean. Slowing down, something up ahead caught her eyes. A black silhouette of a car on the side of the road was very out of place. Coming to a full stop for just a moment it was clear that the old muscle car was stuck, and whoever was driving was not having any luck getting it out.

Already two inches had accumulated on the vehicle making it difficult to tell if the owner was still inside or if they had abandoned the car. The closest gas station or even house was a good two miles, and anyone that had two brain cells would know not to try and walk in this weather. Between the snow and unseasonably negative temperatures, it would me frostbite at best and hypothermia at worst. Even with the heat blasting inside the iron bucket, it didn’t help as she rolled down the window and began to yell out at the car hoping someone would answer. Yet as she began to shout the howling wind took away the words. There was no way anyone would hear her.

Rolling the manual window back up she weighed the option of getting out of the car when a large figure appeared at the driver’s side window. With a shock she jumped and reached for the shotgun under her seat before realizing that it was not a bear but a man with long shaggy hair, wearing little more than jean jacket and flannel. Doing his best to seem friendly he gave a slight grin despite the cold whipping his face turning his cheeks and tip of his nose a bright red. Placing her hand on her chest, she took a breath before partially rolling down the window a few inches.

Returning the smile she did her best to neighborly. “You stuck?” Well, that was a stupid question She thought.

The man nodded. Breathing into his hands trying to warm them. Taking in the image before her she could already see his knuckles were turning white. “My brother and I went off the road, any chance you could pull us out?” His low smooth voice was a pleasant alternative to the wind.

“Unfortunately no. The roads are too slippery right now, almost lost control myself.” She looked around for the second man but saw no one. “But I could give you a ride to where you're going. From there you could call a tow truck.”

he nodded. “You sure?”

“Yeah, not a problem. Besides you’ll be ice by morning, temps are going to keep dropping, and cells don’t work this far out.” While normally she wasn’t one to give strangers rides, these were not normal circumstances. And it didn’t look as though this man was the least bit prepared for a night in the northern woods of Maine. Not during a nor'easter at least.

He nodded running around the truck back to the car. Another man rolled down the driver side window, Getting a better look she could see him look over as the first gestured to her. She waved still smiling. They looked like they were arguing, the first looked annoyed as if he didn’t want to leave the car. Just then a large gust came from behind funneling snow straight in through the window covering him. Reluctantly he got out. Turning around just for a moment to grab two duffel bags. Shoving one into the taller man's arms. The first came jogging almost slipping on a patch of ice before jumping in taking the middle seat of the single cab truck. She watched at the second kissed his hand then placed it on the car before joining them.

Covered in snow they both rubbed their hands together in front of the vents. She turned the heat up a little more, taking in the sight before her. Neither looked as if they had seen so much snow in their lives or at least had experienced it in such a way.

“Thank’s for the ride. But we would have been fine.” Shorter one sounded as if it was a personal insult to him. Ignoring it she shrugged

“Names Alice. Where you boys headed?” Putting the truck in drive it lurched forward crawling out of a snow drift that had already settled in front of it.

“I’m Sam, this is my brother dean.” Sam was thankful for the chance to get out of the cold and wanted to show his appreciation. Dean was more upset about leaving Baby behind. A decision that would surely cause problems later. “We were just trying to pass through. But I guess now we are looking for a motel.”

Watching the road it had become worse than just moments ago. The wind churning the snow creating a tunnel of blinding white. Thankfully having had grown up in the ever-changing weather that was Maine, She could drive in almost any terrain or storm. It was just a matter of knowing your vehicle and how much it could take.

“Well, you're in luck that’s where I’m headed.” Looking at them from the corner of her eye she noticed their mannerism, the roughness to them, giving them a vibe of genuine, making them easy to read. “You boys hunters?”

At the mention of hunter, they both paused for a moment giving each other a look that communicated more than words could have said. Dean now seemed on edge. “How’d you know we’re hunters?” His gruff voice grew defensive

Focusing back on the road she looked for the turn onto the main road. “Most hunters I run into have the same look about em. Like there's something they have their eye on but they can't quite see it past the trees.”

“Most? You run into a lot of us then.” Dean asked still sounding a little distrustful.

“All the time.” She shrugged off the feeling that he was trying to get at something.

“You a hunter then?” Dean talked a lot. Sam focused on warming his frozen fingers.

She shook her head with a sly smile. “No can't say that I had any interest in it. Though my father did try to get me to take up the sport.” In the distance a faint red neon light called to her thru the snow, it read vacancy. “Here we are. Though I do enjoy deer meat I prefer to get mine from the butcher.”

Dean relaxed a bit keying a half smile grow across his lips. The word hunter had multiple meanings and in the star of Maine during this time of year, it wasn't surprising to have the word thrown around so carelessly. Sam also amused by the mild miscommunication took it as a sign that this would be a trip to remember.

Pulling into the parking lot Alice parked directly in front of the office. An open sign hanging on the inside of the glass door. Jumping out of the monster of a truck and into small space it was a nice change from the blistering cold. The heat was steady, a red-headed girl with braids and glasses stood behind the counter reading a book. There was an old faded blue couch underneath the window and a stand with a variety of pamphlets across from it. The girl at the counter pushed her glasses up, placing the book face down. She couldn't have been more than 17.

“Hey Judy, you can go I'll close up.” Alice ducked behind the desk grabbing a key off the wall and tossing it at the girl. “Give your mum a call tell her you're staying here tonight. The roads are terrible you shouldn't be driving. Room 104.”

Judy took the keys glancing at the disheveled men standing in the middle of the room. Dean picking thru the packets on the wall pointing out one advertising the dinner a few miles away. Alice put her hand on Judy’s shoulder.

“I got em. Go get some rest and you can take tomorrow off.” Without a word she shrugged grabbing her coat, then pushed past the two men. “So what you guys looking for?”

Dean was still distracted looking at the pamphlets and news articles on the wall. Sam stepped up placing his bag on the floor. It made a familiar sound of something metal shifting.

“Double. You work here?” He looked genuinely interested.

Nodding Alice typed a few words on the computer. “Actually I own the place. Inherited it from my father after he passed.” Taking the credit card scanning it through approved popped up on the screen. “Sounds lame but I wouldn't have chosen to do anything else.”

With Sams easy going attitude and relaxed demeanor, it was easy to open up. Not that Alice had anything to hide. Her life was an open book. Being someone who had grown up in the small town after her mother passed away when she was a kid, she father bought the failing motel on a whim. But it quickly became a home to them, business even increased after the first few months. Attracting mostly tourist that were interested in hunting or the hikers that were interested in the regions mass amount of trails and natural caves. Alice's only regret was that it hadn't been doing near as well the last few years since her father's passing.

Hands tucked into his pockets sam smiled understanding the draw of a normal quiet life. “Doesn't sound half bad actually.”

Dean reappeared holding a free map of the area which highlighted a few caves and some of the rivers. “You said that there are a lot of hunters in the area. Anyone ever talks about seeing something bigger than a deer?”

“Of course. We get a few stories about bears, a lynx once in while. Moose.” Turning back to Sam, she found herself wondering how long they’d been on the road for. “If you guys are looking for a specific area I can get you in touch with Jim. He knows all of the best hunting spots.”

“Nah, Think we’ll be all set. We can handle our own can’t we Sammy?” He patted Sam’s shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Thank you, that would be great.” Taking the key from Alice's hand he smiled kindly again.

“You mentioned something about a tow truck earlier you got a number or should I just take yours down?” Dean interrupted again. Smiling more flirtatiously this time.

Alice, of course, wasn't having any of it. She’d dealt with so many like him on a weekly basis it wasn’t even flattering anymore. Instead of playing games with Dean she turned to Sam, the less abrasive of the two. “The car should be here by morning. Jim is also the tow guy. I’ll give a call before I close up shop tonight.” Dean got the hint took the key, mumbling something under his breath before walking out into the blizzard. “Didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”

Sam shrugged unfazed, Dean was running on little sleep, and had been striking out with near everyone lately, to say the least, it was having a small impact on his ego. “Don’t take it personally.”

Alice began to work on closing down the computer, then the register. “I won’t. How long are you guys planning on staying?”

“Just tonight and tomorrow. Thanks for all the help. What time does the office open tomorrow?” Sam found himself trying to delay the inevitable.

He didn't want to leave the woman named Alice, she reminded him of what home should be. A smiling face, a helping hand, and a straight to the point comment when needed. All things he and Dean hadn't seen or been apart of in a very long time. Sensing his reluctance to leave Alice didn't push him, she was in no hurry to close the office. It had been a long time since anyone new had actually stopped to just talk. Too often tourists would rush through only stopping to ask about where to check in with the game warden or park ranger. And there was no harm in enjoying the company of someone not from the small rural town.

Alice finished closing the computer down but made no move away from the counter. “We open at 9 but I'm usually up by 6. You in a hurry to skip town?” Leaning forward on her elbows Alice had the same unwavering smile that had been present from the moment they met.

“No, not at all. Just curious. How long have you been running the place?”

“My whole life really. My father bought it when I was five, from the start I loved it. Would talk to the most interesting people and let me tell you we've had a lot of them. But I took over full time about two years ago.” Alice found herself getting lost in the multifaceted layers of Sam's hazel eyes.

“You said you inherited from your father?” Sam was trying not to get too personal but had to ask. A picture hanging behind the counter of Alice and the older man that could only be her father. “I don't mean to pry.”

“No it's fine he passed then. Rather unexpectedly.” She flinched at the memory of when she'd gotten the news. “How about you and your brother. You guys heading home for Thanksgiving?”

Sam's brow pulled together. Thanksgiving had been such a foreign concept the past few years. “No.” He ran his hand through his long hair. “Not this year anyway. It's just us right now so it's not really something we put a lot of effort into.”

The phone rang pulling them both away from the conversation. Mouthing the words sorry as Alice picked up the phone. Taking the hint Sam headed out the door into the blustery wind. To join his brother in their room.

Inside the room was like many other motel rooms, a small kitchenette, bathroom, tv, two beds. The only difference was this one was decorated like a hunting cabin, antlers on the wall, a fish as well. Dean was sitting up in bed watching a Golden Girls marathon, Nursing one of the beers that head taken from the Impala. His eyes not even looking up as Sam fell backward onto the opposite bed with an umph. Sam placed his arms behind his head, lost in thought about Alice.

“Did you get her number or did you chicken out?” Dean’s words went right over his younger brothers head. Getting only a Mhm in return. Dean chucked a pillow hitting him directly. “Yo! Sammy anyone in there or should I call Cas?”

Pushing the pillow off him Sam’s eye refocused on the room around him. He looked over, noticing in the faint glow of the light that three empty bottles sat on the nightstand. HAd he really spent that much time talking to Alice? “No, i’m good.” Pausing for a moment he thought about bringing up the nagging feeling, that he felt when talking to Alice. The gut feeling he got sometimes when on a case, that told him there was more going on. But he pushed the thought away, knowing Dean would just tell him he was being an idiot.

At six am sharp Alice found herself looking at a wall snow. At least half a foot had accumulated overnight, it was still dark, and the temps were still hovering just below 20 degrees. With only a week to go from Thanksgiving, it was a little out of place. But she didn’t put too much into it. Bundling up she grabbed the shovel and made her way around the motel scraping and salting the ice as she went. As she went to start scraping the ice in front of the elderly women Mays room she heard an ear piercing scream. Dropping the shovel she began to pound on the door.

“May? May are you alright?” The scream continued to get louder. “May! You need to open the door.” Digging into her pockets Alice searched for the Master Key. “Don’t worry May I’m coming!”

Pulling the keycard from her pocket her hands shook dropping it twice, before finally opening the door. It hit the wall hard but remained open as Alice rushed to find a now softly whimpering May crumpled on the floor in the bathroom, a red liquid surrounding her, patches of fur and what looked like raw hamburger scattered around the room and hanging from the walls. Alice heard another scream but couldn’t tell where it was coming from until a set of hands grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her back out of the room placing her on the bed. She was still screaming when a set of Hazel eyes met hers. She saw the face and the mouth moving but couldn’t understand what it was saying. A pair of warm hands cupped her face trying to help her focus.

Sam POV

The alarm went off at 630, blaring music to a local radio station playing the oldies. Sitting up the sun was just begin to peek through the curtains. Dean Rolled over hitting the alarm, then rolled back off and fell back to sleep. Pulling the covers back Sam could already feel the brisk cool air seeping in through the vents and the cracks in the wall. Pulling on a Flannel shirt and a clean pair of pants he couldn’t beat the nagging feeling head felt the night before. He’d decided that he would get up early and do some research on the area. See what it was that he was missing.

As he settled into his chair with a warm cup of coffee. He could hear the scratching sound outside the door of someone shoveling snow. A smile crept across his face as he pictured Alice hard at work taking care of the place that she took so much pride in. Recalling the conversation from the night before Sam’s mind swirled with different paths that he could take. He could look into her, was the weird? Was that a stalker move? Searching her past to satisfy his own curiosity, and silence the voice that told him something was not right here. Shaking his head he leaned forward and began to look into the area instead.

Just about to click on a link that looked promising after half an hour of nothing a panicked voice broke his concentration. Jumping from the chair he opened the door just in time to watch as Alice disappears into the next room over. A loud bang of something hitting the wall sent Dean shooting up drawing his gun that he kept under his pillow. His half-lidded eyes searching for the origin of the sound. The bang was quickly followed by a scream, a sound that was all too familiar to the brothers. Sam was out the door before Dean had a chance to pull himself out of bed.

Pushing his way into the room Sam followed the constant scream to the bathroom where a smell of something vile saturated the air. It was the smell of blood, and flesh, inner leads and rotting meat. The floor and walls were painted with blood, while an elderly woman lay on the ground lips quivering pale her stomach an open festering wound. Alice stood staring down at the dying woman screaming in shock. Taking her by the shoulders Sam pulled her away from the veil sense helping her sit on the bed where she continued to scream. Her whole body shook with such ferocity that it became clear that he needed to snap her out of it before she passed out.

“Alice!” Sam Held her face to help her calm down. “You’re ok. Look at me, you're not hurt, everything is going to be fine.”

Just then Dean came running in holding his gun out as he began sweeping the room. His face in a snarl when the smell hit him. “Son of a bitch!”

*********

Hope you enjoyed the first installment. Feedback would be great!

#sam winchester #dean winchester #Sam x Read #Alice #supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #The Storm

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anactualcaseofthetruth · 7 years

Photo

Call Me A Safe Bet, I’m Betting I’m Not - Chapter 4

(AO3 Link- Chapter Four)

“Even though scientists are still quite baffled after multiple millennia of medical and technological advances of exactly how the soulmarks work, there has been enough research and study that we now know when and how to expect them… There has yet to be one soulmate coupling occur before the female has experienced a menstrual cycle and the male to begin producing sperm. In short, soulmarks have never appeared before entering puberty…

There are many, many more cases in which two people have insisted they are soulmates only to not mark with one another. All in all, only about 3% of couplings are correct in predicting they are soulmates before marks form.”

***

Betty Cooper is four years old when she meets Jughead Jones. She knows he is her soulmate, he’s not so sure.

Chapter Four

“Society uses marks as a sign of permanence, we think of them as the world’s way of telling us this is the person we are supposed to be with, and many take this as absolute truth… Most scientists are still insistent at finding a reason for the marks that there is almost no study of those who mark with one, but choose to be with another.

Undoubtedly, it is a small number, so small there are no real statistics for it, but the group does exist… With such an insurgence of ‘unnatural’ children every two to three decades, is it any surprise that slowly, but surely, there are people finding that it takes more than a mark to want to be with someone.”

From Unmarked and On The Rise, 2012—an underground NYC magazine

The first thing Betty learns about finally having her period is that it sucks. It makes her wonder why she wanted it for so long—now, not only is she in pain, but the moment she’s been waiting for is right in front of her and it was terrifying. Well, if she actually tells Jughead about it, that is.

The night before had ended so perfectly and given her a glimmer of hope. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

Betty attends to her red-friend before crawling back into bed and curling into a ball. She doesn’t want to see anyone, talk about any of it, or leave her bed.

She remembers her mother giving her ‘the talk’ when she was around ten years old. She knows all the implications about puberty and how it relates to getting the soulmark, but she realizes she’s not put much thought into the actual getting her period part. Polly has all the supplies she needs in their bathroom, so that’s easy enough to handle, but Betty also recalls her mother telling her how painful menstrual cramps were for her when she was younger and Betty had thought nothing of it, after all she had been much more excited to get the initial sign of womanhood for other reasons.

Now, Betty wants it to go away so she can have a little longer with Jughead and not feel like her abdomen is being ripped out would help too.

Her phone goes off just as she is feeling like sleep might overtake her and she curses under her breath.

It’s a text from Jughead. Archie wants to have our own scary movie marathon today since we ‘bailed’ on him yesterday.

Betty reads the words and her heart sinks. If she hadn’t woken up with her period, she would have jumped at the chance to spend the day in Jughead’s lap with Archie laughing at her. It would have been the perfect day after following last night’s end.

But now?

He said we can skip Dracula because it sucked, but I have seen it and can assure you he is wrong. He said you’re the deciding factor on if he has to sit through it again. She has yet to respond and they’re acting like she’s already agreed. I don’t know in what world he thinks you’ll be able to resist my sad eyes compared to his… he insists you’ll be fair in this decision. I know the truth.

Betty smiles a little at that one and wishes her period could have come a day later. She doesn’t know what to say, so she hasn’t said anything at all. Betty? It’s past 9am so I know you’re awake. You physically don’t know how to sleep in. Is everything okay?

Her breath catches in her throat—he isn’t up to date with her sleeping patterns this summer, obviously but this time he’s not wrong, she was up before nine this morning.

With trembling fingers, she picks up her phone to respond. I’m here. Sorry. Left my phone in my room. She knows she shouldn’t lie to him, they just said last night they wouldn’t do it with each other anymore, but—she’s not ready to see him either.

Archie wants to know if you’re in, we’re heading out to get the movies soon. Fred said you can come with if you want.

Betty groans into her pillow while typing her answer. I can’t. I’m kind of in trouble again. My mom found out we left the movies alone and wasn’t happy. She said no matter what we are going through that isn’t appropriate.

Jughead’s response is almost immediate. That does sound like your mom. I’m sorry, Betts.

She’s far too good at lying to him, she’s learning. And he’s so trusting. It makes her want to cry. It dawns at her that at least she has an explanation for why she’s been so emotional and teary lately. Betty really should have seen this coming, in retrospect.

I don’t know how long I’m under lockdown for. Once I find out, we can redo the marathon then? The offer is real. She hopes if they don’t mark, that they’ll still find their way back to each other somehow. Betty knows it will take some time, a long time, but what’s a little time when they, hopefully, end up back together?

Definitely. Let me know if there is anything I can do?

I will. Have fun with Archie, and tell him we are for sure watching Dracula when we do the rewatch! If Archie thought his sad eyes were even remotely up to par with Jughead’s the boy had another thing coming. Know your audience for this type of stuff.

That’s my girl. Call if you can later? Love you. Betty’s heart clenches and it makes her struggle for breath for a moment. He said it. Well, he wrote it, but he put it out there first and it made her want to jump out of bed and into his arms.

She hopes last night was a turning point, and when she finally gets the nerve to tell him the truth and touch him that the feeling will hold.

I love you too.

…

Betty manages to hit day three before her mother catches wind of her ‘grumpy attitude’ as Polly calls it. (Polly is only really upset because Betty won’t cover for her going to hang out with Jason, and by cover Polly had suggested Betty tag along with Jughead, like that wouldn’t be weird?)

“Do I have to prepare myself for another dose of motherly wisdom? Or will a run of the mill inspirational quote do the trick? I did a Google search and once you get past all the overdone ones of ‘shoot for the moon, even if you miss you’ll land among the stars’ they aren’t so bad,” Alice says as she comes into Betty’s bedroom with a basket full of laundry, no doubt her excuse for this visit. Like she hasn’t been making Betty do her own laundry, and put it away herself, for years. “They are still horrible, of course, but not so bad if you’re in a real time of need.”

“I don’t think I need wisdom, I’m just procrastinating this time. I know what I have to do,” Betty answers as she continues to attempt to read the book in her lap. That summer reading list ain’t gonna read itself! Which is actually what is written at the top, because apparently her English teacher next year is cheesy.

“Anything your mother should know about?” she asks while sorting through the folded laundry to put away.

“Is this one of those things where you know what is going on and you’re testing me to see if I’ll tell the truth or lie?”

“Well, if I told you that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?” her mother answers and Betty can’t help but agree. She’s got her there.

“Okay, well, I, uh, got my period Sunday morning,” Betty stutters out. It’s the first time she’s said the word aloud, and already she wants to take them back.

“I know, that’s why I have the heating pad at the bottom of the basket,” Alice tells her and hands it over with a knowing smile.

“Mom! I’ve been looking for this for over a day now!” Betty whines, twisting herself to get the plug into the outlet near her bed.

“You’re not very discreet, sweetie. Plus, your sister and I have it right now too, the wonders of having so many women in one household. Your dad is going to discover what hell is like. Not only two teenage daughters, but two with their periods at the same time, along with his wife? Poor guy,” her mom sighs while sitting on the bed with her. “Anyways, I stocked the bathroom with medicine and more tampons and pads, I don’t know which you prefer. I used pads for a year or so before I started tampons, but that’s totally up to you. Also, this is your period pad, you do not have to share with Polly, she has her own. It’s a gift from me to you, and an apology for the cramps. You do grow out of them, I don’t get them much anymore.”

“Going on birth control helps too,” Betty mumbles before leaning back with the pad splayed over her abdomen. “Not that I—I mean, I’m still a—”

“I know, Betty. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I think we can hold off on it for a little bit longer, don’t you?”

Betty simply nods. “Yeah, I just Googled how to get rid of cramps and it was the top answer.”

“Getting out of the house can help too, moving around, but I’m assuming there is a reason you’re not crying or snuggling with Jughead right now,” her mother says knowingly.

“We had such a good night together on Saturday, Mom. We finally talked about stuff we’ve been fighting over, told each other things we were hiding, and—I felt like I had him back, then I woke up on Sunday and,” she stops by looking down, as if glaring at her uterus will help the situation.

“I take it he doesn’t know about this development?”

“No, I—I’m too scared to tell him because I know he’ll want to find out right away, and I… I’m scared. I don’t want to lose him, Mom,” Betty whispers.

“Baby,” Alice pushes hair behind her head and hooks a finger under her chin to make her look her in the eye. “If he’s really yours, you won’t lose him. If you don’t mark, it will be hard. You’ll be hurt and heartbroken. As a mother, I’m scared you won’t mark either,” she confesses. “But if you’re as special as I think you are, eventually it won’t matter to him. That boy is so wrapped around your finger I think all it will make him do is hold you tighter.”

“So you… don’t think I’ll mark with him?”

“What I think doesn’t matter. What matters is what you and Jughead think, what the two of you feel for one another. You’ve spent almost ten years ignoring the white noise of what everyone else thinks about you two, about what you feel for him. Don’t stop that now that you’re near the finish line. Believe in yourself, believe in him, and don’t hold off for too long, summer is almost over, after all,” Alice mentions as she stands and rights her blouse and skirt.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Betty asks.

“If you do mark, you have time together before school starts. If you don’t, you have time to deal with everything that will bring. You’re my daughter, Elizabeth, you’re strong and stubborn and I know that no matter what happens you’ll be fine. Maybe not right away, but you will be.”

“Promise?” Betty calls after her once her mom is walking out of her bedroom.

“I promise,” Alice states with a wink before closing the door behind her.

Later, after a nap, Betty decides to take a long shower, followed by a bath because no one is home so why not hog the bathroom, and the hot water tank, for a while? Polly surely doesn’t mind hogging both when Betty is home and in need of it.

The hot water helped alleviate some of the pain and she finds it feels nice to treat herself, even just a little. Betty is still new to shaving, so she does that too after draining the tub, and steals Polly’s expensive lotion to rub all over herself.

She spends time brushing her hair out, it’s longer now that it has been in a long time, almost two inches past her shoulders. When it’s long it just feels like more work, but Betty likes this length and blow-dries it until it’s not so damp so it won’t dry funny.

After about two hours of pampering herself to feel better, Betty comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a big, white fluffy towel feeling a little brave, and thinking about calling Jughead to talk only to find him on her bed, thumbing through the book she had been reading for a day now.

“J—Jughead!” she exclaims, holding the towel tighter. He must have been enthralled with the book because he only notices her entrance into the room when she says his name. Instantly, his eyes snap up to her, then slam shut in quick succession. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demands to know, her entire body turning red. She’s naked, and Jughead is only steps away.

“I—shit, I’m sorry, Betts,” he apologizes and stands, only to trip on something and stumbles. His hand is now slapped over his face, like he doesn’t trust himself to only have one form of coverage. “You were in the bathroom and I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t think you’d come out, you know,” he waves his other hand around vaguely.

“Naked? I was in the bath!”

“I saw that your parents weren’t home yet and took a risk. I just wanted to see you,” he admits awkwardly since he’s standing right in front of her and not only are his eyes closed, but also has his hand covering them so he won’t peak. She can’t help but find it cute even if it’s a bit mortifying.

“Do you think you can get into my closet without breaking something?”

“Shouldn’t you go into your closet? You’re the, uh, well, you know,” he stutters with frilly hand waves. “You smell really nice,” he mumbles a moment later.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, then snaps out of the cuteness. “I don’t keep underwear and stuff in my closet, Jug, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere so I can just grab something from my drawers. Why am I explaining this to you? Just get in my closet!”

He holds a hand out. “Do you think you can lead me there so I don’t break a bone?”

Betty almost takes him up on the offer before remembering. “Uh, you know what, I’ll just grab clothes and go into the bathroom. Just stay there, like that, and don’t be a boy and try to get a peepshow, okay?”

“I’m giving you a very dirty look right now because you know I wouldn’t do… that. I respect you too much. I’m actually offended—”

“I’m going into the bathroom, you can keep scolding me, go on,” she jokes and lets out a huffy stomp and whine once she’s in the clear.

Betty regrets thinking she was feeling brave enough to call him because the universe decided to screw her over and have him just show up at her house instead. Then, she regrets not paying more attention to what she took from her dresser because in her haste she didn’t get a bra and only has a skimpy old tank top in her hands.

“Fuck,” she groans and glares at herself in the mirror. “Today just keeps getting better,” she sighs and quickly she puts on the fitted blue jeans, making sure to pay attention to her monthly visitor, and puts the tank top on.

It’s not—okay, it is going to show Jughead more than he has ever seen, but it’s not like he’s going to see much, the tank top does have one of those built in bras. She’s only just now finally growing boobs, so a real bra isn’t always necessary, but—she went from pretty much nothing to a bit of something in a couple weeks’ time.

“Here goes,” she mutters to herself before exiting the bathroom.

Jughead is back on her bed, his shoes and plaid button-up discarded leaving him in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt. His beanie is on her bedside table and it makes her heart speed up. That means he’s feeling vulnerable, not only that, but he’s feeling comfortable enough to show her that he is.

“Hi,” Betty whispers with arms crossed over her chest, then rethinks of the stance knowing it’s making them more prominent.

“H—Hi,” he greets while clearing his throat.

“Hi,” she repeats in a breathy tone.

Jughead chuckles. “This whole puberty thing is going well, you look, um—okay, I don’t know what to say without admitting I’m trying not to stare.”

Betty’s heart swells because while she knows Jughead has always found her pretty, has told her to himself, but she’s never felt stare-worthy, not with girls like Cheryl Blossom around knowing exactly what she has and proudly flaunting it about.

“Really? I mean, it’s—I’m not used to it being a problem. It’s like they grew overnight. My mom actually bought me real bras with underwire and stuff, but you didn’t need to know that,” she breathes and bites her lip.

“Maybe we should not talk about it because I have my own growing going on and—” he stops when she chirps out a laugh. “Not right now, just… in general. Let’s change the subject, huh?” he suggests and clears his throat. “Sorry about not announcing myself. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, you were respectful,” she assures him and shifts around the edge of her room, trying to keep distance between them. “I don’t think I would have responded well to you barging in on me in the bathroom either. So, uh, what brings you by?” she asks, and wishes she didn’t suddenly sound, or feel, so awkward. Being weird about their growing bodies is normal, that she knows, but she doesn’t want to be just plain weird with him.

“Well, I ran into your sister in town,” he starts while standing. “I asked if she knew anything about when you’d be off-grounding and she was very confused because she’s under the impression you’re not in any trouble at all.”

“Ugh, Polly,” Betty whines and covers her face.

“What’s going on, Betty?” he asks while coming closer.

At the thought of them touching Betty backs up and hits the bathroom door, wincing as the bathroom doorknob digs into her back.

Jughead stops his advance and studies her. “Betty, I thought after the Drive-In we were going to be different, more like us again, but with everything finally out in the open. I felt better that night than I have in weeks,” he admits while rubbing the back of his neck.

She stops herself from stepping towards him. “I did too, Jug, please believe me.”

“Is this because of your hands? Did something happen and you’re worried about telling me? You know all I want to do is help you, Betty, you don’t have to—” he stops as shakes her head.

“No, I—I haven’t done it since that night, I promise,” she assured him. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve caught myself almost doing it, but I haven’t. I’m really trying to stop. It’s,” she sighs as she feels the need to do it now, so she stretches her hands out to fight the urge.

“Betty,” Jughead murmurs, seeing her movements, and closes the distance between them.

Betty backs into the wall, this time with her hands behind her back so she can’t touch him. “I’m—I’m okay, I swear, I haven’t done it,” she repeats.

“I do believe you, but with the way you’re acting, it’s not very reassuring. What’s going on, Betts?” His hands settle on her waist and she flinches, making him look at her with questioning eyes. “Betty, you’re not—I mean, did you…?”

She slowly nods at his unasked question, blinking away tears.

“Oh, shit,” he strings together and steps away. “You got your period?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Betty apologizes with her droplets falling. “I just—Saturday was so perfect, and when I woke up Sunday I had it, and I was so scared. I’m so scared, Jughead,” she admits. “Please, can we just hold off for a while?”

“Hold off? Betty, this is what we’ve been waiting for forever,” he reminds her. “All you have to do is touch me and—”

“And possibly lose you forever, Jug, no, I won’t and you can’t make me,” she states, her tone firm even though her lip is quivering.

“So you’re just going to never touch me again? Every time we’re together you’ll sit on your hands and make sure we’re never next to one another? I guess that’s fine, we’ll just never walk beside each other either, but we’ll have to be careful and make sure we never reach for the same thing at the same time. You know, this could be tricky, maybe we should get you a straightjacket to make sure we don’t forget for a single second.”

“I’m not opposed,” Betty whispers.

“Betty, come on,” he pleads, his voice low and intense. “What, you want to be together and not touch? I don’t know about you but with all the growing going on I was really getting hyped for it.”

“Jug!” Betty tries not to smile as she scolds him. “Be serious!”

“I am. You tell me how you think this will work? You’ll just never initiate contact with me, or any other guy, for the rest of your life?”

“I know I’m being unreasonable, okay, but I don’t care. I just got you back, I’m not going to lose you again.”

“Betty,” Jughead sighs and cups her face. She resists the urge to lean into his touch. “You never lost me, you will never lose me. I’m always going to be right here.”

“No, you said so yourself, if we don’t mark, you’re gone, remember? We were outside your trailer and—”

“And I was drunk and angry, and fuck—I can’t lie to you, I won’t,” he says and brackets his arms around her, bringing him so close their noses are brushing together and his breath tickles her eyelashes. “I said that because that’s how I felt, that’s the only way I can see myself not falling apart, but Betty… if these last few weeks being so shitty has taught me anything it’s that I can’t stay away from you. I love you, Betty, and saying those words felt so liberating. I thought I was protecting myself by keeping them in, but when I finally said them, when I saw how it helped you, how it calmed you down, I knew right then that I didn’t need a mark to know I should be with you. I just know it myself.”

“That’s beautiful, Juggie, and I believe you, but,” she stops and sniffles. “You’ll worry every day that I’ll get a mark with someone else. I don’t want to put you through that. That’s not fair. It will get to you, nag at you—”

“So will you, Betty. You don’t think you’ll nag me about it and reassure me so many times a day that one day I’ll finally believe you? It’s going to be hard, we’ll fight and I’ll make you cry and feel like an ass, then do something over-the-top to make things right. You’ll get annoyed about my worries and scream at me, your face will turn red and you'll do that stomping thing you do when you're frustrated.”

“You promise? You promise that you won’t push me away or—”

“I can’t promise that. I can’t promise it won’t be hard or feel impossible sometimes. I can’t promise I won’t push you away or feel like I’m slowly losing you because I know there will be times I’ll be weak and do those things. But I do promise that at the end of the day I’m always going to be the one climbing through your window to be with you. I’m always going to find my way back to you. I need you as much as you need me, probably more. After all, I can’t resist you, Betty Cooper.”

She blinks away tears and nods, trying to be brave. “Can you back up?” she asks and he does as he’s told. “I know that… I know if we don’t mark the first couple days will be the worst. I know that you’ll need time to be angry and you’ll worry about me touching Archie and,” she sniffles. “I know all that, so just please, please come back to me when you can see straight again,” she pleads.

“After a day or two I don’t think anything could keep me away.”

Betty pushes off the wall and shakes out her hands to get some feeling back. “Can I kiss you?” she whispers, and his eyebrows rise in question. “Can that be how we find out? We’ve only really kissed once and I ruined it. I want to have been really kissed by you before,” she stops and swallows the knot in her throat.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he tells her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They simply stare at each other for a moment, Betty trying to get her nerve, Jughead trying not to jump out of his skin, then suddenly she crashes into him. She comes at him so hard he stumbles back, his arms locking around her waist as her lips slant over his.

They take it slow for only a second before their mouths are moving together. Betty feels warmth spread from her toes to her hair follicles. She doesn’t care that their teeth clank together, or that neither of them know exactly what they are doing, she just wants to keep kissing him and never stop.

She’s on her tiptoes with her hands in his hair and Jughead’s fingers are skimming the skin that her tank top is revealing at the small of her back and Betty feels high. High as in she’s floating, maybe literally flying, and a heat gathers in her heart that is calming, yet sets her on fire.

The feeling is so overwhelming she pulls away with her chest heaving.

She looks up at Jughead, but he isn’t meeting her eye, he’s looking further south. In different circumstances, she might feel giddy that he’s looking, she’s still new to garnering attention there, but right now is not that time. “Jughead, really?”

“Betty,” he whispers and nods down to where he is looking.

Betty follows his eyes and finds what he’s fixated on. It’s not her cleavage, it’s a mark, and it’s over her heart.

“Oh, my Go—” she stops and yanks down at his neckline to check his skin. Sure enough, there is a matching mark over his heart.

It’s a light gold, and resembles a three-point headpiece, and looks like it could be glowing, is radiant on his skin and the sight of it causes her to release a tearless sob.

With shaking a hand Jughead reaches up and runs his fingers over it. “It’s a crown,” he whispers.

“It’s a soulmark,” Betty corrects and outlines his own, the one that shows the world he is hers, just like she’s been saying for ten years.

“You were right,” Jughead says, his voice a mere breath. “I’m so sorry I made you think—”

“Shut up,” Betty orders, happy tears bright in her eyes. “None of that, okay? No dwelling on what we said or did, or what we fought about. What matters now is this,” she tells him with a hand splayed over his heart, over their mark. “It doesn’t matter that you’re an unnatural child, it doesn’t matter that your mom found her soulmate later, or that this whole system is a sham. Through it all, through all the statistics and theories, you are marked with me, you were meant for me. You believe that now, don’t you?”

Jughead wipes his nose with his arm and nods. “I do, I should have believed you all along. I love you, Betty Cooper,” he confesses, his forehead resting on hers, the purest smile she’s ever seen gracing his lips.

“Jughead Jones, I love you,” she replies and grins. “You know what that means?”

“Hm?”

Once again Betty launches herself at him, only this time he falls to the floor and she’s kissing him all over: his cheeks, forehead, eyelids, jawline, everywhere she can reach. “I told you so!” she squeaks between kisses, then settles on his lips.

It’s featherlight at first, their mouths just ghosting together. Soon enough Jughead cups her cheeks and brings their lips firmly together. The kiss starts to deepen, them tentatively moving their mouths, making this one really count, when her door bursts open.

“Betty, are you—Elizabeth Cooper!” her mother exclaims.

“Mom!” Betty sits up, her entire body red, probably. “You’re home.”

“Betty,” her mom says, her voice lower, her face softening.

Because of the tank top she can see the mark, the crown over her heart. Alice’s eyes flick to Jughead and Betty pulls down the neckline of his shirt to his. Betty thinks she sees tears in her mom’s eyes, but it’s only for a second, it must have been a trick of the light.

“Well,” Alice says with a small smile. “Jughead, will you be staying for dinner?”

“What?” both she and Jughead respond. “That’s the first thing you ask?” Betty questions.

“What? It’s official now, isn’t it? You’re family. Around here we have family dinners together. Of course, you don’t have to come every night, but you are always welcome. Our fridge is your fridge.”

“That’s it?” Betty asks.

“I’m sorry, did you expect a party? I can throw one together, but it might take a couple days,” Alice says and Jughead chuckles underneath her. “Now, Elizabeth Cooper, get off him before your father sees you like this. And this door is not to be closed when you two are alone together, I mean it.”

Betty realizes she’s been straddling Jughead and quickly is up on her feet. “I—yes, sorry,” she agrees while helping Jughead up. Alice waits for Jughead’s response too, so Betty elbows him in the gut.

“Ow, yes, ma’am,” he assures her mother while rubbing his stomach.

“And the answer for dinner?” Alice asks once more.

“If it’s not a bother, I don’t want to—”

“Jughead, you have never been, and will never be a bother. You and your sister are always welcome here,” her mom states, her tone firm, the voice she uses when she means business. “Now, I’ll trust you two to be appropriate and you can trust that I won’t be walking by this door every three to five minutes, hm?” she says before leaving with a wink.

Instantly Betty deflates. “Oh, my God,” she breathes.

“I feel like she just adopted me,” Jughead admits, the tension draining from him as well.

“Even if she just did, I don’t think sleepovers are welcome,” Betty mentions. “But dinners are, so baby steps, I guess?”

Jughead smiles, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks again. “I don’t think they will ever willingly agree to sleepovers, babe.”

Betty grins and loops her arms around his neck. “I like when you call me ‘babe’,” she confesses while biting her lip. She gazes up into his eyes only to find he’s captivated by their mark, and keeps his iris’ trained on it like it could disappear at any moment. “I feel like the universe just gave you an open pass to stare at my boobs,” she huffs, only a little upset about it.

“Hm, what did you say?” he questions, then smiles. “I’m kidding, I heard you. Nickname usage and chest comment noted. Can we get back to what we were doing before? ‘Cause I’ve been dreaming about it for at least three years and feel like I have only gotten about three minutes of it.”

“Poor baby,” Betty teases.

“Like you don’t want to kiss me either,” he counters.

“Well, that depends. Can I officially call you my boyfriend now? ‘Cause I only kiss my boyfriend.”

Jughead rolls his eyes at her. “All you have to do is ask to hear me say it, Betts. I would love it if I could have the honor of being your first, and last, boyfriend.”

Unable to control herself Betty catapults herself at Jughead, who just hooks his arms under her legs, easily catching the sign to hold her. She pushes their lips together, her mouth in a smile, his too, but before they can continue the door bangs open once more.

Jughead instantly drops her, but keeps his hands on her hips to steady her. “Are we ever gonna get to finish doing that?” he grumbles, but Betty ignores him.

Her eyes are trained on her big sister with watering eyes at the door. “Polly,” Betty gulps and smiles faintly. “What’re you—”

“You marked?” Polly interrupts, anger clear in her stance and eyes.

“Polly, I,” Betty starts again, but Polly stomps her foot indignantly.

“This isn’t fair!” her big sister cries. “How come you get what you want but I can’t get what I want?”

“Polly, isn’t not like that. You can love someone without a mark—”

“Oh, save it. I know I love Jason, I love him, just like you love Jughead. How come I didn’t get a mark? What’s so different about me?”

Betty steps towards her sister. “Polly, I’m sorry, I—”

“Polly,” Hal appears next to her. “You are not going to ruin this for your sister.”

“But she gets everything!” Polly insists.

Betty’s sympathetic face changes into one of disbelief and anger. “I get everything? I’ve been told I’m crazy for believing in this. I’ve been told by you I’m weird for it, not to mention what I’ve been putting Jughead through with everything going on his family. This did not come easy to us, so don’t act like it has.”

Polly’s face was covered in tear tracks and her whole body was shaking. “What makes your love better than mine?” she asks in a heartbreaking whisper.

“I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m not going to let you make me feel bad about this,” Betty tells her, a hand firmly interlocked with Jughead’s.

“Pauline,” Alice is now in the doorway too. “Do not do this, not right now, not in front of your sister. Go to your room and I will meet you there. Now,” she orders with a full finger point and Polly leaves after a sharp glare. “She doesn’t mean it, Betty,” her mother insists.

“You should go talk to her,” Hal whispers and Alice nods before leaving. “Really, don’t take your sister’s words to heart, Betty, she’s hurting,” he tells her.

“I know,” Betty murmurs.

“I don’t want you to feel bad, this is a big day for you. Polly will come around in time,” Hal goes on with a soft smile. “Here, I don’t think it’s best to stick around for dinner. How about you two go to Pop’s, on me?” he says while rifling through his wallet and handing Betty a few green bills.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Betty murmurs, her mood somber now.

“Jughead,” Hal begins again with his hand out, and Jughead gets the idea to shake. “I always hoped it would turn out his way, makes things a little easier on me with all the girls in the household,” he sighs and Betty rolls her eyes at her dad’s attempt to lighten the mood. Also, it’s working. “Alright, you two be good,” he finishes with a kiss to her forehead and disappears down the hall. “And please put a real shirt on before you leave the house!”

“I feel like I walked into the Twilight Zone,” Jughead says from next to her. “We actually marked, your mom gave me a revolving door invitation, your sister is upset about Jason Blossom, personally I think she lucked out there, and your dad is happy to have another guy in the family. I honestly think I’m dreaming. This shit is getting too surreal.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” Betty asks while pocketing the money, to which he shrugs, so she does.

“Hey, I didn’t mean down there!” he says in a squeaky voice as he jumps. “Geez, you’re different in the Twilight Zone too.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know yet, put a shirt on so we can get out of here before the aliens descend.”

…

“Anything for dessert, kids?” Pop Tate interrupts a couple hours later, making Jughead pull his face from her neck, where he had been nuzzling.

Betty ducks her head in embarrassment all while turning red. At least she’s consistent—she’s been some form of red all day between Jughead, her parents, and now Pop Tate.

“Yeah, our usual. Thanks, Pop,” Jughead answers with a cheeky smile.

The older man winks at them while grabbing their empty plates with a chuckle. “Sure thing, Jug.”

“Ugh, I feel like every adult knows exactly what things are going through my mind today, and it’s making me far too uncomfortable,” Betty mutters, but still rests her head back on the booth with a smile playing on her lips.

“Well, I’m not an adult, so care to enlighten me about these things, hm?” Jughead asks, still picking at a basket of fries that Pop Tate knows to keep continually filling for the boy, since his stomach is a never-ending pit.

“Probably the same things you’re thinking, buddy,” Betty answers, not giving him the satisfaction of saying the actual words.

“To be fair, I have a lot of time to make up for, plenty of spots to discover and see what noises you make when I kiss them, or lick them, or—”

“Jug!” Betty exclaims, her voice low. “You haven’t licked anything, so don’t act like you have, smartass.”

“We have the rest of our lives, I’m sure I’ll get around to it in a couple months to a year,” he assures her, nonchalant.

“At least you’re aware there is a timeline to follow,” Betty says and grabs onto a fist of his shirt to tug him close and kiss him quickly.

“I want you to know, it probably goes without saying, but,” Jughead stops when Pop Tate approaches.

“Here ya go, kids,” the older man says while setting down their usual milkshakes, Betty’s vanilla and Jughead’s strawberry.

“Thanks Pop,” Betty says, and is proud she manages to not turn red again. “What were you saying?” she asks, her lips already circling the straw of the milkshake.

Jughead waits until she is done with her sip and rewraps his arm around her shoulders. “There’s all this research and crap saying soulmarks make you feel older, if you get them when you’re young, and I believe it after everything we’ve been through. When it comes to you, and how I feel about you, my feelings have always been more mature than they should have been.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you have dirty dreams about me or something?” Betty questions as he pauses.

“What, no,” Jughead responds and reaches for his milkshake now. “Well, I do have them, but that’s not what I’m trying to tell you now,” he adds on as an afterthought.

“Really? What happens in them?” Betty asks with a grin.

“We can talk about that later, and I’m pretty sure you can guess how they go, I’m trying to get at something else here,” he insists in a sigh.

“Okay, sorry,” she murmurs and presses a soft kiss against his cheek.

Jughead keeps her close, his hand moving from her shoulder to hang from her neck. “This probably goes without saying, Betty, but even though we feel older, I don’t want you to think I expect anything because of that.”

“I thought we already established we’re together and love each other and stuff?” Betty questions, complete with a head tilt.

“Betty, I’m talking about sex here,” Jughead says bluntly.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she responds in know. “I know, Juggie, as we’ve done with everything else, we’ll figure it out together.”

“We do have a lot to figure out,” he agrees and Betty rolls her eyes. “What? I may be an old soul, and sensitive at that, but I am still a guy, and I have eyes, and you’re…” he stops and simply gulps while looking her up and down.

“Growing?” she offers with a knowing smile.

“Yes, and I want to know if everything is as soft as your lips,” he admits.

“Jug!” Betty squeaks and slumps down in the booth so no one can see how red she is turning. “Stop.”

“Betty, I just want you to know now,” he says with a finger hooked under her chin to make her look at him. “I am never going to be discreet about how beautiful and breathtaking you are. So you either get used to it, or be ready to blush about ninety-percent of the time.”

“I—thank you, I’m just not used to being the center of attention of anything.”

“You’ve always been the center of my attention,” Jughead states and reaches for his milkshake once more.

“Okay, does having a mark make you way more smooth, or is it just me?” Betty asks rhetorically.

“I think it’s the confidence of the mark, you know, no more doubting or worrying about losing you to someone else. I’ve always had game, I’ve just kept it hidden.”

“Juggie, I love you dearly, but please never use game like that again,” Betty tells him. “And you don’t need ‘game’ with me, you’ve already won, I’m yours, remember?” she says while undoing a button on her jean button-up to pull at the collar and show him their mark.

Just like he was the first time he saw it, Jughead is instantly mesmerized. He reaches his hand up and his fingertips brush along the crown, and she hears his sharp intake of breath.

“Hey, you still with me?” Betty murmurs, her own hand reaching up to wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah, I just—I’m still in shock, sorry,” he breathes and drops his hand, but she just moves hers down to link through his.

“It’s not going anywhere, Juggie, okay?” she whispers and presses a kiss over his shirt where their mark is. “Closer to the heart, closer the bond,” she adds on and just rests against his chest with a happy sigh.

“It’s because of you,” Jughead says into her hair. “It’s likely we would have marked no matter what—”

“We would have, shut up,” she interrupts, her words muffled against his skin.

“But I think because you knew and never let that belief go, never let me go, that it’s over our hearts. We were able to become so close before all the puberty stuff that the bond is stronger.”

“You think if I wasn’t so wise that it would’ve been, like, on our butts or something?”

“I’m trying to be serious and romantic, and you’re talking about our asses?” Jughead asks and Betty pulls away laughing. “What is this?”

“The Twilight Zone, remember?”

“Right,” Jughead murmurs, his eyes trained on the mark he can still see underneath her shirt from his angle. “Betty, I—there’s something I want to ask you.” She nods while drinking more of her milkshake. “Do you think we—would you mind if,” he lets out a breath.

“You can ask me anything, Jug,” she reminds him, nothing the more somber tone.

“I don’t want to tell anyone like—we can tell our friends, and your family already knows, but I don’t want to tell my family,” he finally gets out. Betty opens her mouth to respond, but he goes on. “We just got torn apart because my mom’s mark, and I don’t want you to think I’m anything less than fucking thrilled about this, but I just think it wouldn’t help matters, if that makes sense.”

“Whatever you think is best, Juggie,” she assures him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb sweeping across the crest of it.

“I don’t want my mom think she’s validated or I understand why she did what she did because I have one too. It’s—she cheated on my dad, blames him for everything still, and part of me feels like she regrets the last fifteen years of her life. She’s doing better, she’s not drinking, she’s there for Jellybean, and I know she loves us, but—there’s no excuse for what happened, for how it happened, and how easy it was for her to just leave it all behind. I don’t want her to think because we have this in common that her thinking was justified because of how it feels. I’ve felt this for you most of my life. It may have taken a mark for me to believe in its permanence, to embrace it, but I’ve always known how I felt. Not getting a mark wouldn’t have meant I loved you any less than I do now.”

“I know, I know,” Betty insists and presses her forehead against his. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, baby.”

Jughead shudders against her and mimics her cupping of his cheek. “And I don’t know how my dad would handle it, with how my mom marking fucked everything up. I don’t—if he really is turning his life around right now, I don’t want him to think that me marking means me leaving him like my mom did, like she made Jellybean too. I’m not ready to give up on him, Betty.”

“And I would never ask you to. Your dad has his problems, but I know he loves you and Jellybean, he loves your mom too, despite everything. We don’t have to tell them, it’s okay. I’m not upset or think you’re ashamed—”

“God, no. Fuck, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s just all still too fresh,” he cuts in.

“Stop making your case to me, I understand, I’m fine with it, okay?”

“You do know that by me not wanting my family to know means—”

“We can’t be open about it, the marks, I mean. I’m hoping that even though we’re not ready to reveal our soulmarks, we’ll still be able to be a couple?” Betty’s voice gets progressively higher as her sentence goes on.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be able to resist being like this, now that I’ve let myself really—”

“Be with me?” Betty finishes for him.

“Once you break through the wall, there’s really no going back,” Jughead agrees. “Wait, ‘we’?” he questions. “You’re not ready to tell people too?”

“It’s not that I’m not ready, I just don’t want to deal with the teenage hysteria. We start high school in less than a month, do you know how annoying teenage girls can be? I’d have to answer questions about what it’s like, how I knew all along, defend that I knew all along, is it weird that we are so young. I know I have the type of personality to snap, and I’m afraid I might kill someone.”

Jughead makes a vague nodding motion and she slaps his shoulder. “Hey, I’m agreeing. You’re tough, it’s not a bad thing.”

“But I think murder is frowned upon,” Betty points out.

“Depends who you’re talking to. Know your audience, huh?” he replies with a wink. “But you’re right, it’s a small town, word would get out, we’d be a spectacle, I’d take the fall for your crime. It’s probably best we just keep this under our hats for now.”

“Aw, you’d go to jail for me? That’s so sweet,” Betty coos.

“Man, are we lucky we found each other, we’re weird.”

“It’s best to be with someone who’s weirdness matches yours,” Kevin announces, making Betty jump and Jughead merely glare at him as he invites himself into their booth. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was supposed to meet Moose and here he walks in with half the JV football team and strolls right past me. So, naturally, I acted like I just hadn’t seen you two sitting here and made my way over after I realized my social flub.”

“Naturally,” Jughead mutters, angling himself more normal in the booth so he’s not just facing Betty.

“What has you two looking so cozy?” Kevin asks as Archie makes himself known too, and Kevin immediately scoots to make room for the red-head.

“Hey guys!” their best friend greets.

“Yeah, we weren’t in the middle of anything, no worries,” Jughead grumbles.

Betty kisses his cheek with a smile, ignoring his sudden, and understandable, mood change. “Oh, shush, Juggie.”

“Yeah, ‘shush, Juggie’,” Archie copies and steals some fries from Jug’s never-ending basket.

“Is anyone going to answer my question?” Kevin questions.

“What was your question?” Archie asks him.

“Have you ever seen these two act like this when a scary movie isn’t on the screen?” Kevin counters, to which Archie nods. “So, did something happen when you disappeared at the Drive-In. I mean, I see that something did, but I thought I should hear from my best friend rather than just talk with the rest of the town.”

“You can see it?” Betty worries and covers her heart with her hand, making a point to button up her shirt.

“B, what are you doing? That isn’t going to hide that hickey on your neck,” Kevin insists.

“I have a hickey?” Betty exclaims, both hands now on her neck.

“Yes, what the hell are you talking about?” Kevin demands as Betty rubs at her skin. “Left side, B—no, my left,” he instructs while pointing for clarification.

“Jughead!” Betty scolds, her voice high once again.

“What, it’s not bad, it just looks like you itched really hard,” Jughead tells her after inspected the area.

“Stop grinning like that! This isn’t funny!” she tells him, but can’t stop the corners of her mouth from sliding upwards.

“Can someone please tell poor Archie what is going on, look how confused he is!” Kevin says.

Betty and Jughead share a look and nod together. “Well, Betty got her—”

“We don’t need to go over that part,” Betty interrupts with a pointed look. Archie, or Kevin for that matter, didn’t need to know exactly what was going on with her body. “The point is, well, we marked.”

“What!?” Kevin just about yells, but doesn’t care that he’s turning heads. “Where? When? How? Why was I not your first phone call? Aren’t I worth at least a text? Has it been since the night at the Drive-In? If so, I am sincerely angry right now. You kept this from me for three days?” he asks in quick succession.

“Kevin, calm down, it was barely three hours ago,” Jughead assures him with an eyeroll and takes his basket of fries away from Archie.

“Three hours, that’s a long time—”

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Archie cuts Kevin off. “Finally. Now that you’re a couple, I’m assuming you’re a couple, I am not going to be in the middle anymore. If you fight, I’m Switzerland and if I hang out with one of you during said fight I am not taking sides, it just means one of you has a better offer or is being less mopey.”

“Ha, that definitely means he’ll be hanging out with me,” Betty gloats.

“Who cares about Archie, where is it? What is it? Is it somewhere naughty?” Kevin asks.

“Now I know where you’re getting it,” Jughead comments with a pointed look towards Betty.

“I’ll show you, but we’re keeping it quiet, okay?” she says while staring at Kevin.

“I may be way too excited right now, but I know how to keep a secret, I’ll have you know,” he insists. “I’m actually offended you think I’d just go around telling—”

“Alright, alright, take it down a notch, Kev,” Betty insists while undoing a button on her shirt again and showing them.

Kevin stares at it for longer than Archie because of where it is, but both are equally happy for them.

“That’s so freakin’ cute, and right over the heart, I love it,” Kevin states as Betty closes the flap. “It’s perfect for the two of you.”

“Thanks, Kevin,” Betty says with a smile, she feels like she hasn’t stopped smiling since it happened, and it’s probably true.

“You guys deserve it,” Archie speaks up. “I’m happy it finally happened, that you guys can finally just be happy together instead of fighting about how much you care about each other.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” Jughead jokes and pretends to wipe a tear.

“Fuck off,” Archie responds and she can tell they are now attempting to kick one another under the table.

“Hey, unless one of the two of you want to start playing footsies with me, cut it out,” Kevin mumbles, having gotten hit in the crossfire.

“Man, some things never change,” they hear next to them and all turn.

“Dad,” Jughead says and instantly sits up straighter.

“Hey, Jug,” FP greets. “You guys mind if I steal my son real quick?” he asks the table and they all shake their heads. “I promise I’ll give him back, Betty,” he teases and walks away with a wink.

“Why do people keep winking at me today? Am I giving off a vibe?” Betty questions once they are gone.

“I don’t know, you kind of have an air of hotness going on, you’re all confident and stuff. Plus, FP definitely saw your hickey,” Kevin tells her.

“Oh, man,” Betty grumbles and covers her neck again while looking out the window at Jughead talking to FP.

She notices Jug has gotten taller when she sees him next to his father. They both have the same stance and broody face—Jughead may be more like this mother intellectually, but physically he is his father’s son. They have the same mannerisms.

“What do you think they are talking about?” Archie asks a silent minute later.

“What do you think,” Betty responds without turning to look at her friends. “FP shaved, Arch, you know what that means.”

“Jughead is going home.”

To be continued….

Notes: Anyone cry? Review your reactions! I love them!!!and NO this story is NOT over. I have more planned. Stick with me. And as always, I must say thank you to @jandjsalmon for helping and beta-ing, and making the wonderful aesthetic. She's amazeballs, even though I make her cry all the time.

#bughead #fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #Call Me A Safe Bet #ao3

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