You were so desperate for him that, when you saw Pop’s was empty, you didn’t hesitate to drag him into the diner’s bathroom. Your hands shook with haste as you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, not caring about the place or the consequences. The only thing that mattered was feeling him.
FP didn’t protest. On the contrary, his breathing grew heavier as you leaned against the sink, the cold, hard edge digging into your back. But you didn’t care. Not when his cock, already hard and throbbing, slid inside you with a single thrust, rearranging your insides as if it were its natural place.
"Fuck..." FP muttered, his voice rough, as his hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly to adjust the angle.
The sink creaked under your weight, but the sound was lost among the muffled moans escaping your throat every time he buried himself inside you. The mirror behind you was fogged from the steam of your hot bodies. His thrusts were fast, almost brutal, and every time his hips slammed into yours, you felt the pleasure coiling in your core like a knot about to snap.
"Harder," you demanded, digging your nails into his shoulders, needing to feel him deeper, further inside.
FP didn’t need to be told twice. He turned you to face the sink, pushing you forward until your chest was pressed against the cold porcelain. His hands held your waist, and then you felt it: a thrust so powerful it nearly lifted you off the ground. The sound of your bodies slapping together echoed in the small bathroom, mixed with the water dripping from the faucet you hadn’t turned off completely.
"This is how I want you, fuck," FP growled, his hot breath in your ear as his hips kept moving without mercy.
Each thrust made you bite your lip to keep from screaming. The sink dug into your hips, but the pain only served to intensify the pleasure. You could feel his cock filling you completely, each movement bringing you closer to the edge. One of your hands slid down to your clit, and at the first touch, a shiver ran down your spine.
"I’m gonna come," you managed to gasp, feeling the orgasm start to overwhelm you.
FP didn’t stop. Instead, he sped up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. His fingers dug into your flesh, and then you felt it: his body tensed, a guttural moan escaped his throat, and his hot release filled you from within.
The orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless. Your legs trembled, and only FP’s grip kept you standing. You closed your eyes, feeling the waves of pleasure still shaking you, even as he had already stopped, panting against your back.
For a moment, there was only silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing and the steady drip of the faucet. FP slowly pulled away from you, and you felt his seed begin to trickle down your thighs.
"Shit..." he muttered, running a hand through his hair, as if trying to regain his senses.
You just smiled, still trembling, as you straightened up and turned to face him. You knew someone could walk in at any moment, but in that instant, you didn’t care. You only wanted to do it again.
Summary: Y/N, Jughead, and their dad may have complained, shivered, and wrestled with slimy fish—but by the end of the day, laughter, warmth, and unexpected family bonding made the freezing lake feel like home.
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The snow was fresh, crisp, and annoyingly cold. I shivered in my jacket as I trudged across the frozen lake with Jughead at my side, each of us carrying a small fishing rod and a thermos of hot chocolate Dad had insisted we bring.
“Uh… Dad? Why the hell are we doing this?” Jughead muttered, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. I mirrored his stance, stamping my boots on the ice.
“Seriously… I didn’t sign up for frostbite and frozen toes.”
Dad grinned from a few steps ahead, clearly oblivious to our attitudes.
“Come on, kids, it’s fun! My old man used to take me ice fishing when I was your age. Thought it’d be nice to spend some time with you two… and maybe catch some dinner.”
“Catch some dinner?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“Like, actually eat a fish we froze our hands off for?”
Jughead groaned, flopping down onto the ice with a dramatic sigh.
“Dad, I’d rather risk another psychotic killer than do this.”
Dad shrugged, unfazed. “Suit yourselves. But one day, you’ll look back on this and remember… quality family time.”
I looked at Jughead. He raised a brow. Quality family time. Right… That’s what this was supposed to be. Teenage torture, frozen toes, and Dad’s nostalgic obsession with ice fishing.
Dad had picked the ‘perfect’ spot, according to him. A section of the lake with clear ice and ‘plenty of fish’. He pulled out a tiny auger and started drilling a hole. Jughead leaned back, arms crossed.
“So… we just… sit here?”
“Pretty much.” Dad said cheerfully. “Patience is part of the fun. And don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
I perched myself on a foldable stool he brought, the ice cracking slightly beneath my weight.
“I highly doubt that.”
Dad grinned, handing each of us a rod. “Here. Just drop your line in, wait, and talk. You know… family bonding.”
Jughead muttered something under his breath that may have been a curse word. I wasn’t entirely sure.
We sat there in silence for a while, save for the occasional plop as Dad’s line hit the water and the distant sound of wind over the frozen lake. I wrapped my hands around the thermos he gave me, taking a tentative sip.
“This… isn’t terrible.” I admitted, heat from the hot chocolate spreading through me. Jughead raised an eyebrow.
“You’re warming up to it already?”
I shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Dad chuckled. “See? Told you. You just have to give it a chance. And you know, you can’t beat hot chocolate on ice.”
Jughead smirked slightly, leaning closer. “I’ll give you hot chocolate. Maybe this is tolerable.”
“I elbowed him gently. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it a little.” He shot me a look, and I swear, the corners of his mouth twitched upward. Small victory.
After what felt like an eternity, though Dad insisted it had only been ten minutes, I felt a tug on my line. My eyes widened as I yanked the rod up.
“Dad! I think I got something!”
Dad leaned over, his face lighting up. “You’re not kidding! Real it in, Y/N!”
Juggie groaned beside me. “Oh no… This is gonna be gross.”
I pulled with all my strength, heart pounding, and finally, up came a wriggling fish. My first reaction was pure horror.
“Oh my God! It’s slimy! I touched it!”
Dad laughed so hard he nearly fell over. “That’s the spirit! Good job, kiddo!”
Jug leaned closer reluctantly. “Actually… that’s kind of impressive.”
I shot him a triumphant grin. “Don’t act like you’d never squealed over something like this if you caught it.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.
Hours passed in the blur of sun reflecting off the ice, laughter, and the occasional fish being pulled from the hole. Juggie even caught one, though he was far too dramatic about the experience, muttering something about ‘murderous little ice monsters’. Dad roasted marshmallows over a small portable stove, handing them to us with a grin. See? Not bad, huh? You survived. You caught something, you laughed, quality family time.”
Jug snorted around a melted marshmallow.
“I guess I can admit it… this was kinda fun.”
I nodded, toasting my marshmallow to him.
“Yeah, I’ll give it that. It’s… not the worst.”
Dad’s grin was infectious, and I realized the sun was dipping lower, painting the snow with gold and pink. Somehow, sitting on a frozen late with my brother and our Dad, all three of us bundled in winter coats and scarves, felt… warm. Jug leaned back against the ice, his usual broody expression softened by a small, almost shy smile.
“You know, Dad… this was actually kinda awesome.”
Dad raised a brow. “Really? That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call anything I suggested awesome.”
Jug smirked. “Don’t push it. I’ll ruin my reputation.”
I laughed, elbowing him lightly. “Come on, admit it! You’re glad Dad dragged us out here.”
He gave a mock groan but let out a laugh that echoed across the lake.
“Fine, yeah, I’m glad.”
Dad’s smile was so wide it practically glowed. “That’s what I like to hear.”
By the time the sun had set, the ice fishing trip had transformed completely in my mind. What started as a boring, freezing torture session turned into something that felt… magical. Laughter, warm chocolate, roasted marshmallows, frozen fish, and our Dad telling stories about his own childhood. Juggie and I might have rolled our eyes a hundred times, grumbled a dozen more, and made all the sarcastic comments in the world, but somehow, we ended up with a memory that felt like… home. Dad glanced at us both, his eyes twinkling.
“Ya know… my old man wasn’t the best, and I know I ain’t either, but moments like these make everything better.”
I glanced at Jug, and he gave me a tiny shrug and a smirk.
“Dad…” I whispered, but he just gave a smile and a wink.
And as we trudged back to the truck, our cheeks pink from the cold, laughing at snow that had fallen into our boots, I realized that sometimes, the most unlikely adventures, like ice fishing on a frozen lake with your Dad and twin brother, were the ones that warmed your heart the most. Even when you didn’t expect it.
Author’s Note: Holy shit y'all. It's been a hot minute, huh? I have spent a lot of time thinking about finishing this fic and I just simply must be done with this. I've got a few more chapters coming your way, and then I must bid au revoir to YBYB. It's just been so long. I love you guys so much and thanks for sticking around.
Pairing: Riverdale, FP Jones, and 19-Year-Old Reader
Description: A bet with Jughead leads to so much more than winning.
Warning: Language, Adult themes, Age Gap,
Song Inspiration: Everybody (Backstreet's Back) - Backstreet Boys (Get it?)
By the time Thursday came around, you were doubting everything. Your mind changed every five minutes. You shouldn’t tell Jug. You should have told Jug from the beginning. Well, better late than never, right? You shouldn’t even be with FP. You should be with FP and not tell Jug outright, but not hide it either. Your head cycled through every possibility all day long. You barely accomplished anything other than going through the daily motions, as you were too preoccupied with worrying over how tonight was going to go. No matter how anxiety ridden you were, you never texted FP. For one thing, you didn’t want to freak him out. He was probably already worried and didn’t need your freak out on top of his. But more than that, you trusted him. You knew this was important to him and the right thing to do overall, so you let him take the reigns. It was comforting to know that whatever ended up happening, at least you and FP would have to deal with it together.
You weren’t sure when Jug was heading over to the trailer, so you sent a text to FP after you got out of school simply asking him to keep you updated. He texted back quickly saying Jug was coming over now and he’d let you know how it went as soon as he could. You thought about doing something to preoccupy your mind while you waited, but knew that trying to do anything would be useless. So you just went home. And waited. And waited.
It felt like decades had gone by when your phone finally chimed with a text from FP asking you to come over for dinner. Was he serious? No context, no update. Just a dinner invite? You typed back furiously “uhhhh what am I walking into here, Jones?”. Fuck, it went bad. You knew it was a bad idea. Fuck.
His response came quick, but not quick enough to calm the rising anxiety in your stomach.
“He took it good. Invited Betty over too. Figured it'd be nice to get everyone on the same page right off the bat”
Oh. Okay. So Jug didn’t hate your guts. That was promising. You’d have to feel out exact how he was taking it when you got there, but knowing Betty would be there too was promising. You got yourself ready, texted Betty to see if she wanted a ride, and then you went on your merry way.
Betty had a lot of questions in the car ride over. She knew you had seen FP again because of your sleepover text escapades and you’d made some casual comments about how it was going here and there, but nothing of any substance. You kept FP from Betty mostly because you didn’t want to have to ask her to lie to Jughead. She kept the little information she had known to herself, but now that it was out in the open, she was ravenous for details. Between her and Jughead’s thirst for knowledge and inability to leave anything alone, you were shocked it had taken this long honestly. She asked how serious things had gotten and how often you saw each other and if you’d discussed any future plans. And you told her everything. Honestly, it felt nice to be able to confide in someone about your relationship.
By the time you got to the South Side, Betty was fully clued in on your life. You walked up to the trailer, letting Betty enter first. You ambled in behind her nervous as all hell. It was like telling Jug about the bet all over again, except with way more than 50 bucks at stake. FP greeted Betty with a warm hug and then turned to you. “How’s my girl?” he asked with a grin, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head before you could even get a word out.
“Oh you know, living the dream,” you responded angling your head up so he could plant a quick kiss on your lips.
“God, it’s so much worse seeing it. Like I knew it was happening but- fuck, that’s just off-putting” said Jughead, with no real malice in his voice and just a dash of pure disgust.
“Aw, stop it; they’re cute!” Betty gushed. Your cheeks turned pink at the attention, but FP made no move to let you go which comforted your anxiety.
You hadn’t really thought about the whole “my boyfriend can’t cook anything that isn’t microwaveable” thing when you had originally made dinner plans, but thankfully he had taken the initiative to order in at some point. And Chinese food was bound to make anyone agreeable to even the most uncomfortable of situations.
But luckily, things were mostly normal at dinner. Jug and FP caught up on Serpent news, while Betty filled you in on Riverdale’s mystery de jour. (She was 100% convinced that there was something funky up with that new girl and her weirdly blonde dad, but everyone else thought she was crazy. You believed her, but knew better than to get involved. You were NOT going to be the next girl knifed to a musical background because you sniffed around too hard at the insanity that followed B around). Somehow, the conversations got intertwined when FP and Betty connected the dots that maybe this weird girl’s “Farm” was where Fangs had been disappearing to, and you found yourself extremely out of the loop. You excused yourself to start dinner clean up, and, to your surprise, Jughead volunteered to help you. Not that Jughead was a necessarily unhelpful person, you just assumed he would be of more help with the discussion at hand. And that he would probably want to give you a wide birth while he processed the news that you were dating his father. Either one.
You started to silently put away leftovers and wash dishes by hand, as you couldn’t think of anything to say to each other. Silence with Jug had always been comfortable before- a time to think and write and not have to fill the void with mindless bullshit. But for the first time it felt fragile- like one loud noise and the whole trailer would blow up. You just had to say something. Anything. But before you could decide on whether or not it was stupid to talk to your best friend about the weather, he decided to point out the giant leather-clad elephant in the room.
“I’m trying really hard to not be weird about this,” he admitted while drying the plates you were washing. You blinked at him, afraid to cut him off. “I mean, logically, i’m not…opposed. Dad and I have never been particularly close and it’s not like I even live here. You’ve just always fit into a particular space in my life and now I have to find a way to fit you into a very different space.”
“I get that. And I’m not asking you to change anything for me. I know we’ve always had a bond over growing up the way we did. Independent" - i.e. neglected- "and rocky." - i.e. unstable- "And I don’t want this to change that.”
He looked mildly incredulous, “Of course it changes that. I can’t-“
You cut him off. “Yes you can". You lowered your voice and turned to look Jughead in the eye for possibly the first time in weeks. “Yes, FP is my boyfriend. Yes, I have incredibly strong feelings for him that I’m still trying to work out. But I was your friend first. And he was your dad first- a shitty one! And you’re still trying to repair that relationship. You can still talk to me about him, even the bad stuff. I’m not going to automatically take his side in everything. I knew who he was when I started seeing him, don’t think I don’t know.”
Jughead studied you like one of the boards with red string and different clues he has set up. He just stared at your with those unwavering eyes and you refused to look away, not even once. He finally found whatever he was searching for. “Okay,” he sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just going to be an adjustment period. But if you’re both happy then…” he trails off and shrugs, but you can tell there’s more thoughts in that always one-step-ahead brain of his. You wait for him to form them into a sentence. “I don’t want you to get hurt either. He wasn’t always particularly good with my mom. Or Alice. Once things settle, he gets... complacent. Stops caring.” Jughead's gaze found a point in the distance to fixate on while he thought, surely, about his own relationship with FP Jones and how once things got hard, he stopped trying with him too.
“I know. And this has only been a few weeks, I’m not expecting anything at this point. I’m not saying he’s changed because I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the before and I can’t be sure if we’re in the after. i just know that I believe he has the capability to be a good guy, and that’s enough for me to give him a chance. I see it in the way he tries now. Please don’t think I would ever date a man believing he’s still shitty.”
Jug snorts at that. “You do love to put men in their place.”
“I really, really do.” Jughead bumps his shoulder into yours and it feels good. Normal. Feels like acceptance.
-------------------------------------------------
By the time Jughead and Betty left, you’d decided it was late enough to warrant you staying the night. You and FP flopped down onto the couch, coming down from a joint anxiety wave that you hadn’t even really noticed.
"That went well,” he stated to no one in particular. “I think,” he added, scrunching up his face just the tiniest bit.
“Very well,” you responded, turning towards him and tucking yourself into his side. “Jug and I talked for a little. He’s okay with it.”
FP just twisted his head to look and you and quirked it to the side, looking for more details. “It'll be an adjustment period for him,” you continued. “But nothing he can’t handle. I think he knows that this makes sense. We make sense.” You laced your fingers in between his as he kissed the top of your head.
“Good. That makes this so much easier,” he admitted, resting his head on top of yours. You sat like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, breathing slow, enjoying the silence, and sharing small kisses and light touches.
Eventually FP scooped you up and carried you to bed, where light touches became heavier and kisses became feverish, until you were both so warn out that you passed out, wrapped up in each other again.
I will never get over the Chad Michael Murray Organ Harvesting Incest Cult plot line.
Why are you, as an adult man, blonde, CMM?
Trying to get back into the flow of writing this as a full blown adult is crazy because I lack the suspension of disbelief that I had when I started writing this. Why are you dating that child, FP Jones? But for you all?? I will suspend my life if you asked.
The next couple of days were spent in bliss. While you hated living in a trailer, it was home. Your family was home. You made sure Jug and JB were going to school, especially after getting Jellybean enrolled in school in Riverdale. You had officially moved back home.
You even got your old job back while FP was working with Fred at Andrews Construction. You got back into the habit of helping Jug with his writing.
One day, when you picked up JB from school you went ahead and headed to the high school to pick up Jughead. You stood in front of the school, leaning against the truck with JB sitting in the passenger seat playing with her Nintendo DS.
As you stood there, you kept getting glances from other students as school was let out. You had your hands in your pockets of your jeans as you crossed your legs with Timberlands on your feet. A flannel was over an old band t-shirt, which you were sure was your husbands from when you first started going out. You also had a jean jacket over that to keep you warm.
You then saw Jughead step out of the school with a pretty blonde girl, a raven haired girl, and a red headed boy. You were pretty sure that was Betty and Archie. Betty you vaguely remember from a couple times she played with the boys when they were younger. You and her mother, Alice, did not get along. Alice was ex-serpent which didn’t settle well with you as you had been a serpent since around the same time as FP. You didn’t trust her after she refused to acknowledge the fact that she came from the Southside.
While you were proud of the fact that you were a Serpent.
“Mrs. Jones!” Archie yelled loudly as he rushed to hug you. You laughed as you hugged him back. You always saw him as a second son and he always saw you as a second mother. You were always supportive of anything the kids did.
“Archie! You’ve gotten taller since I last saw you.” You told him as you let him go and patted his shoulder.
“That’s what happens when you get older.” He sassed with a grin on his lips.
You smiled and smacked him on the back of the head, making it jerk forward and him to scrunch his face up in a grimace. You always hit hard.
You then looked over at Jughead and saw him with his arm around Betty’s waist. You raised an eyebrow and Jug rushed to introduce the two girls. “Mom, I don’t know if you remember Betty, but this is Betty Cooper. My girlfriend.” He said kinda slowly as if he didn’t want you to know. “And this is Veronica Lodge.” He introduced the Hispanic girl on the other side of him.
“Hi, Mrs. Jones.” Betty said with a smile on her face. You smiled back and shook her hand that she held out.
“Hi, Betty. Yeah, I remember you. You sometimes played with the boys when you guys were younger. You guys can just call me Y/N. I don’t mind.” You turned to Archie. “I think I’ve told you multiple times.” He shrugged with a innocent smile. You laughed.
“Jughead, you didn’t tell me your mom was a badass.” Veronica said as she reached out her hand to shake.
You smirked and narrowed your eyes at her playfully. “Well that’s because she’s my mom. Although she has been my role model since I was maybe 5.” Jug said with a tone of sarcasm at the begin. “Not that I don’t love seeing you Mom. What are you doing here?”
You grinned. “You want a ride home, Jug?” You asked.
He made an ‘oh’ face as he threw his arm around Betty’s shoulders. “I was gonna walk Betty home.”
You smiled. “I can drive you both. Come on.” You then turned to the other two as Betty and Jug headed to the truck.
I think Betty was trying to be quiet but I heard her as she whispered to Jughead. “She is so much easier to talk to than your dad.” He chuckled.
“You two good?” You asked the other two high schoolers. Wanting to make sure they got home safe.
Veronica answered first. “Yeah, I’m at the Pembroke and it isn’t that far. Bye guys.” She then made her way in the direction of the Pembroke. You then turned to Archie.
“You good, kid?” You asked him.
“Yeah, dad should -” He was cut off as someone spoke up from behind you.
“Y/N?” You both turned around and saw Fred standing there.
“Hey, Fred!” You smiled. You missed your best friend. You had been friends with Fred and FP since you were all kids.
“Hey, dad.” Archie said as he walked over his dad. Fred patted his shoulder as he glanced at Archie before looking back at you. You smiled as you shoved your hands in your pockets of your jacket.
“Y/N. You’re back.” Fred smiled big at you.
“Yeah, hopefully for good.” You told him. He went to say something else but JB decided it would be a good time to honk the truck horn loudly.
Archie and Fred jumped at the loud sound while you set your face in a grimace of agitation.
“MA!!!! HURRY UP!”
You turned around with raised eyebrows. “Forsythia Penelope Jones!” You said sternly.
She shrunk down back into her seat as Jug laughed at her.
You sighed as you turned back to Fred and Archie who were chuckling.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you guys later.” You turned to the truck and went to the driver’s side with a wave over your shoulder.
Summary: Jughead bringing Betty home to meet you and FP for the first time, which is a HUGE deal
(I didn’t include the actual dinner, but I would be open to giving it a shot in a sequel if you babes want to see it)
—————————————————————————————————
What he’d suggested wasn’t that big of a deal, not really.
Young people frequently brought their partners to meet their parents, and after as long as they’d been seeing each other, you shouldn't’ have been shocked that Jughead wanted to take his turn.
He and Betty were getting pretty serious and it was only natural that he take the next step with her, in terms of introducing her to the two most important people in his life outside of his favorite fictional characters and the few close friends he had.
You and FP were going to love her and Jughead was confident that she’d love you too.
It was bound to be a perfect match, albeit strange, just like the two of them were in the first place.
“So, I was thinking maybe I could bring Betty back here for dinner after the dance, If that’s okay?” Jughead had hummed, his words reaching both you and his dad where you were in the kitchen as he passed.
He was heading out for school, and didn’t even bother to give you a second to respond. By the time you’d registered what he’d said, he was already gone.
Not that you were any less thrilled at what he’d asked.
It was finally happening.
Jughead was bringing a girl home.
It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t.
He didn’t really ask you to do anything, or need anything from you. He just brought it up in casual conversation, like it was nothing.
He’d always been like that though, and whether or not he thought it was worth making a production for, you knew that it was.
You had heard so much about Betty from him, and you were actually going to meet her, and you physically couldn't have been more thrilled.
Of course, you didn’t want to make a scene over it, not at first.
You knew that the bigger deal you made out of it, the more uncomfortable Jug would be but it was hard not to be excited. You felt like it was your duty as a stepmom to make it perfect.
After all, you and FP had never done this before, and neither had Jughead.
Not one of you had any idea what you were doing and you didn’t like that very much.
It made you feel out of control, like anything could go wrong at any second, and that just wasn’t an option.
You needed this to be amazing.
Which, naturally, made you incredibly nervous.
Of all the things that you’d had to face living in this town, nothing had ever really struck you as much as what was going on tonight.
As far as you were concerned, it was one of the most important things parents could do for their kids.
How were you not supposed to be anxious about that?
“Is the glassware too formal? We can’t just have dinner on paper plates” you asked, buzzing past FP on the couch with the aforementioned glassware in hand.
You just wanted everything to be perfect.
...but it was proving much more difficult to dress up the trailer than you’d anticipated.
No matter what you did, it still looked like two grown men lived here, and while that was normally no big deal, that wasn’t the atmosphere you were going for tonight.
Not that your darling husband seemed to care.
He was perfectly content to just let you rip your hair out like nothing was wrong, like this wasn’t the one thing parents were supposed to actually prepare for.
“I doubt the kids will care what we’re eating off of” FP allowed, taking another swig of his beer, thinking back to a few hours ago when he told you that this was just a casual thing and Jughead would love whatever you put together.
Nothing ever had to be as big of a deal as you made it.
He was sure that whoever Jughead brought through the door, she was going to be just as lovely and down to earth as you were. He hadn’t really raised his boy to care about things like paper plates, after all.
He certainly didn’t.
For your first date in high school, you and FP had eaten burgers and fries in the back of his dad’s pickup.
He’d taken one hell of a beating after the old man found out about that, but it was worth it.
Even years later when you’d reconnected, he didn’t give his current way of life a second thought.
“But what if they do? This is a huge deal for Jug and I don’t want to be the one to mess it up” you kept on, peeking around the corner once again from the kitchen just to give him that look he already knew was coming.
He loved you, FP loved you more than everything in the world, but sometimes you really needed to take a chill pill.
Anything you did tonight would be far better than what dinner around here normally was.
You’d set the table and everything, which beat out eating family still on the couch in front of the Tv.
It was going to be okay, as long as you just calmed down and realized what it was Jughead actually wanted. All he really wanted was for the two of you to sit down with his girlfriend for some dinner.
That was it, and FP had every confidence the pair of you could pull that off.
“Honey, everything is going to be just fine” he assured, the most earnest look in his eyes that you’d ever seen. Obviously, he believed what he was saying to be true and you wanted to.
More than anything, you wanted to believe him but you both knew that he couldn’t be completely sure of what he was saying either.
Betty wasn’t from this side of town and no matter what he said, you knew that there was a lot more riding on this than you wanted to admit.
It wasn’t just a parental duty, it was an image thing too.
You needed to do everything you could to prove to Betty that you weren’t just some Southside trash, like everyone may have believed.
That meant that there would be no paper plates and no serpent talk.
You needed to all be on your best behavior, even if it was a little out of your comfort zone.
“Would you please just help me with this? Please” you hummed, truly going for broke as you tried to get him to help you. You felt like you were juggling everything and failing at all the elements at once.
You just needed him to help you make sure everything was alright, then, maybe, you could relax, but not a minute before.
“Sure thing, sugarbear” he groaned, standing up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, though he wasn’t entirely there to just help you out.
You knew that as soon as you saw the look on his face. The wheels were definitely turning in that head of his.
“How about I trade ya, you finish this and I’ll figure out the plates” FP grinned, handing you his beer with a wink, clearly proud of himself as he took the stack of plates from you.
You were going to kick his ass.
Still, even being a sarcastic pain in your neck, you knew that FP would do everything he could to help you out.
He might not have been the most refined of men, but he would always do everything in his ability to make life easier on you.
Even if he thought this was silly.
The truth was that even if FP was a little confused about why this was so important to you, it was endearing to know that his kid meant so much to you.
Granted, he would sort of expect as much given how long you two had been married.
You had been in Jughead’s life for quite some time now and he wouldn’t have included you if he didn’t trust you to handle it.
He believed in you, and that was all that mattered.
Whatever tonight ended up being like, FP was confident that Jughead would be just as proud as he was.
After all, when Juggie asked this morning, he directed his attention toward you, likely well aware that his dad wasn’t going to realistically put as much into this as you would.
FP did alright, but his idea of a notable family night would be ordering pizza.
That just wasn’t exactly what Jughead had in mind.
Not that he really would have wanted you to drive yourself crazy over all this either.
“There. Don’t you feel better?” FP joked, watching as you tipped the bottle back, polishing off what was left of his beer as you forced a deep breath from your lungs.
Objectively, you knew that he was right and that no matter what you did, it would be perfect.
You just had to let yourself relax so that you could actually get this done.
Together.
After all, it was just dinner, it wasn’t the end of the world.
~
“You’re sure this is enough?” you sighed, looking over the spread you’d managed to put together with your loving husband.
If you had it your way, it would have been a four-course meal with the best china and polished silverware, but you understood after a conversation with FP that would have been too much for such an extravagant display.
It would literally kill Jughead if he walked in here to find you two, dressed to the nines, sitting around a candlelit dinner.
He’d never get over that.
This would be much better, because it was subtle and casual, like dinner at home always was.
“Yes dear, it’s fine” he grinned, reaching out to take your hand in his own, which he used as leverage to pull you into his lap.
A soft groan left his lips when your initial weight settled on his frame but you both blamed that on the fact that he was an old man.
You usually did.
In fact, at this point, that was sort of the running joke in your marriage every time something like that happened.
“You better hope so. The last thing I want is for our lousy dinner to ruin Jughead’s relationship” you grumbled, settling further into his hold as best you could. You just had so much nervous energy built up and you didn’t want to sit and wait.
They would be here any minute and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something you were missing.
Something that could be better.
Still, before you could absolutely drive yourself, and more importantly, FP out of your minds, the door rustled open with the sound of Jughead’s house key.
They were here.
Finally,
“It’s fine,” he repeated, giving you a gentle smile as you got up from his lap, tapping your ass gingerly as you moved.
You both had no idea what was going on as of right now but there was one thing you did know, no matter what kind of job you’d done in here, they were coming in.
This was what it was.
“How’d it go?” FP spoke first, a gentle smile on his face as he thought over everything you’d manage to get done since they’d left.
School dances had always been fun, at least, he thought they were.
After a certain point, he stopped going and started focusing more on the future he wanted for himself, or more accurately, the future he didn’t have any choice but to accept.
A future that never really included things like school dances or introducing pretty girls to his parents over dinner.
That wasn’t in the cards for him but thanks to you, it was for Jug.
“Alright. We had a good time” Juggie allowed, not shocking you with how quiet he was being, and always was.
He never really had much to say but that didn’t make the things he did say any less impactful. He expressed himself in other ways, focusing more on the written word.
You were sure that while he didn’t have much to say to the two of you now, he was bound to write something up tonight about how wonderful Betty looked and how the music sucked.
It would be just as profound and full of teen angst as anything else he’d ever written and you’d love every word.
“My feet are killing me” came a second voice, the soft melodic tone of Betty Cooper, who followed Jughead closely into the door, without a second thought.
You were sure that this was a little strange for her, having never been here before or met either of you, but you were determined to make this as painless an exchange as you could, for everyone involved.
“Come on in, make yourself comfortable” you tried, doing your best to be as normal and natural as you usually would be with a gentle grin.
You had no idea what you were doing, and really, it was sort of hard to hide it.
You weren’t like the mom’s on the North side that had breakfast together once a week and socialized through the high school like she was used to.
The two of you were outsiders, southsiders to a T, and this kind of family dinner wasn’t something you knew how to do.
The closest you got to family dinner growing up was when your mom was working the bar at the Wyrm.
Sometimes you’d drop by, play some pools with some of the older serpents and get a sandwich or something for dinner.
It was about as extensive as it got, but you had given yourself just about as much as you could with what you did know.
...and it wasn’t too bad.
You and FP had finished off a pretty nice looking roast, with a side of mashed potatoes and broccoli, all hot and ready on the dining table that you’d set as well as you knew how.
All in all, it didn’t look too bad and you were sort of proud of how it turned out.
You just hoped it was good enough for Jughead.
“I hope this is okay. Your dad picked out the plates” you allowed, addressing your words to Jughead as Betty made herself at home on the couch, just as you’d instructed.
Of the two of you, you assumed that she found FP less threatening.
He was far more like what she was used to in Jughead anyway.
There was a humor in your tone as you admired those stupid paper plates on the table, setting on top of the fine china in what he’d called a ‘happy compromise’
It looked ridiculous, but when it came down to it, you were so thrilled about the help that you didn’t even bother to argue with the man you loved.
You couldn’t help yourself.
“It’s great”
That was all Jughead had for you but considering who you were talking to and the history you two shared, you knew that you didn’t need a ton of words to understand that you’d done pretty well.
He liked it and from where you were sitting, that meant everything.
“I’m glad. Now, there’s a beautiful girl in the living room waiting for you” you grinned, heading that way with the young male in tow, ready to start the evening you had ahead of you.
Warning: Reader is legal however she is in her mid twenties. // Mentions of drinking, a swear or two. Angst, Fluff, Gets Steamy.
Word Count: 1,442
Summary: When the reader returns to Riverdale, an unlikely reunion happens.
FP Jones Masterlist
Bounding up the stairs of the Wyrm, butterflies began erupting in your stomach. It had been a while since you were last in Riverdale. Graduating from Riverdale High, you went straight to college, rarely coming home with the exception of holidays.
Fidgeting with the zipper on your pink leather jacket, you took in a deep breath, before opening the door. You were promptly greeted with a wave of warmth. Your gaze on the floorboards before you, as you walked in.
Music rang through your ears along with unusual quietness. Lifting your gaze, you were greeted with the eyes of patrons of the Wyrm.
“Uh..”
“Y/N!”
Before you knew it, Toni was throwing her arms around you pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. Grinning, you reciprocated her actions.
“I’ve missed you, T.”
“Come on.” She grinned grasping your hand leading you into the group of Serpents.
Hours seemed to pass by like minutes. You had felt as if you talked to every serpent patron in the bar, except for one. The only one that really mattered.
Sighing, you had decided it was time to go home. Making your way to the front of Wyrm, you threw a smile over your shoulder, you had felt lucky to have such a warm welcome home.
Once you opened the door, you were overwhelmed with a chilled wave of air. A small cloud of condensation could be seen. Bounding down the stairs, you sat on one before you ordered yourself a Taxi.
“Did you think you could leave without saying goodbye?” A husky voice questioned, in front of you.
You scoffed shaking your head. “I did since I didn’t even get a hello.” You shot back.
FP sighed, before sitting beside you. The side of his shoulder resting comfortably against yours.
“Sorry, kid.” He spoke softly, turning to face you. His breath laced with alcohol. “How about I drive you home?”
You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s not necessary.”
“I know it’s not.” He grinned. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”
“Wow, I never thought I’d hear FP say he wanted to be a gentleman.” You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours.
A bellow of laughter filled the air, causing you to laugh along.
Your taxi you had called pulled in front, interrupting the small banter between you and FP.
Standing up, you began making your way towards the car. A firm hand grasped your wrist preventing you from leaving further.
“Wait.” FP’s voice rang through your ears. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
“Let me take you home...Please.” He pleaded, his eyes filled with want.
Offering him a closed-lip smile, you sighed. “Look, FP, we’ve both been drinking...Alcohol helps people make bad decisions. I won’t be one of your drunken regrets.”
FP frowned. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before clenching his jaw.
Letting out a huff, you felt heat dance along your cheeks. Standing on your tippy-toes, you placed your hands on his shoulders, your lips coming in contact with his cheek.
“Good night, Jones.” You spoke as you retreated towards the cab.
“Good night, Y/L/N.”
---
“Well hello there, miss Y/N.” Pop greeted, standing before you.
“Hi, Pop.” You grinned, glancing up leaning on the diner counter.
“It’s good to have you back, kiddo.” He smiled. “Your order’s on me.” He spoke hushed, as he tapped the counter in front of you before gliding away to clearing a booth.
Gazing at the order window, a hat caught your eye.
“Jones?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Whirling around, he came face to face with you. He grinned at you before the realization dawned on him. His grin melting off his face rapidly replaced with a shocked expression.
“What are you doing here?”
“Uh, what every other person does at Pop’s... Getting food?”
Gazing at you, he placed his hands on the counter leaning against it. “Well yeah, but-”
“Order up.” The sound of a ring filled the air.
Grasping your to-go bag, you winked at FP. “Nice hat.”
His hands subconsciously reaching for it. “I-”
“See you around, Jones.”
---
“Hello?” FP’s groggy voice questioned through the phone.
“Jones.” You groaned. “Can you come and get me?”
Sitting up in bed, any ounce of sleep dripped away. “Where are you, sweetheart?” He tossed the blankets off his body, rushing around his bedroom.
“Jones.” You giggled, as you leaned your head against the railing of the porch stairs.
“Y/L/N.” He grinned, taking a seat beside you.
“I think I overdid it.” You hummed.
“You think?” FP’s voice dripping with sarcasm. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Leaning against him for support, you stumbled a few times before making it to his truck. Helping you in his truck, he jogged to round the front of his truck, getting into the drivers' side.
Staring out of the windshield, you could taste the bitterness on your tongue. Coming to a halt at a stoplight, you let out a huff.
“It’s all bullshit.” You spat.
FP furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Frowning, he wasn’t familiar with the tone of your voice. “What is?”
“Love. Love is bullshit.” You spat, crossing your arms along your chest. “Why are we expected to feel something from a fairy tale to know we’re in love? And if we haven’t found someone by a certain age, we’re branded as bitter or too independent.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“And if it’s not some fairytale garbage it’s not considered love.” You scoffed shaking your head. “Whose to say love has to be a fairytale? I’m just supposed to wait for some guy to come and save me? To swoop me off my feet as he’s dressed as my ‘Knight in shining armor’?” You questioned making air quotes in the process.
FP decided it was best to stay quiet during your drunken rant and listen to what you were saying.
“You know, you and I are more alike than I thought.” You spoke, gazing out the passenger window, as FP continued driving down the road.
“How’s that?” He smirked raising an eyebrow.
“We both run away from our feelings.” You spat, your voice coming out bitter.
---
After that night, you had gone out of your way to make sure you avoided FP. You were successful for a few weeks before it came to a crashing halt.
Sitting on your couch, you were watching your favorite show, waiting for your order of pizza.
Knock.
Knock.
“Coming!” You called, pulling open the door you were surprised to see FP standing before you. “Jones-”
Entering your apartment, you gazed at him in shock. “What are you-”
“These are for you.” He spoke, rubbing the back of his neck, as he shifted from foot to foot.
Grabbing the bouquet, you were taken back. “Jones-”
“I’m...I’m sorry if I came on too strong-”
Placing the flowers on your table, you made your way in front of FP.
“FP!” You exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Well, that night I drove you home.”
“Oh no.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry for anything dumb I said while drunk.”
Grasping your jaw, his chest pressed against yours as he closed the space between you. FP rested his forehead against yours causing your breath to mingle.
“Can...Can I kiss you?” He whispered giving you a gentle Eskimo kiss.
You hummed in response, leaning forward.
Moving backward, he let out a sigh. “I need to hear the words, baby girl.”
“Jones, please kiss me-”
Placing his lips gently on yours, he kissed you. Reaching up, you laced onto his hair, giving a gentle tug to the ends.
A throaty groan passed through his lips as he pressed his hips against yours. Grinning against his lips, you turned your head allowing you to gauge the direction of the couch. FP latched his lips to your throat sucking as he allowed you to lead him.
Giggling, you felt him hum against you. His hands grasping your hips attempting to keep you as close as possible.
Reaching the couch, you placed your hand on FP’s chest, before motioning for him to sit. Once he was situated you promptly straddled his hips. Sitting on his lap, you connected your lips once again. His hands roaming the length of your back.
Opening your mouth, his tongue snaked in exploring your mouth entirely. Moaning slightly, you pulled away resting your forehead against his. Your breaths coming out as pants.
“I know I’m not prince charming.” His voice coming out deeper than before. “But I hope you’ll have me.”
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Summary: Fp/Reader Request: Song-Fic, the song killed someone for you by Alec Benjamin, maybe when FP joins the serpents in high school
“FP?” You tilt your head watching him staring at himself in the mirror.
“Yeah Y/N?”
“What’re you looking at?” You grin when he smirks back at you.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He laughs and you nod.
“It’s why I asked.”
“Don’t you have a game to be at?” He sounds almost snappy and you shrug.
“Don’t you?” You mean it teasingly but watch as he sighs, grimacing in the mirror before blanking his face and smiling at you.
“Course.”
“You can talk to me, you know that right?” he nods shrugging and kisses you softly.
“Lot going on at home.”
“You can stay here.” You mumble as he pulls you closer.
“You know I can’t your parents would rat me out in a heartbeat to climb ranks.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Of course not.” He kisses you once more sliding his letterman jacket from his shoulders into his bag.
“This is silly.”
“Gotta keep up my bulldog appearances.” He winks and you grin waving as he slides on his bike and speeds off. You know none of the Southsider’s you live around care; if anything they’re relieved FP has settled with another southsider, even if he seems so against embracing his home and the side he lives in.
You avoid looking at Alice Smith, the newest member of the River Vixens, and as the rest of the Serpents hiss to you one of the only Serpent’s to leave in such an over the top public manner. She avoids you, avoids talking to you at the least although you can feel her glaring almost everyone moment FP is near you. You don’t bother trying to find out whatever issue she’s had with you; FP seemingly having picked you despite how bothered he was about Alice knowing he was from the Southside, and would use it against him.
”Y/N, sweetheart you awake?” You blink when FP appears nervously hovering at your window.
“FP? You okay?”
“Yeah just got-“
“Oh my god. FP what happened?” You scramble over to him hands shaking slightly as you get a better look at him; his arm skewed to the side twisted and a gash that’s bleeding sluggishly over his eyebrow and his lip split open, bruises darkening over his eye, his left side bruised and you’re aware he’s probably in a lot of pain considering how he naturally turns away from you.
“Fp, what happened?”
“Nothing, just a scrap; just-“ He cringes coughing and you sigh, hand curling around his shoulder.
“What happened?”
“My dad, it’s nothing you don’t need to worry. I swear; I’ll take care of it.” He nods slightly inclining his head toward where your bathroom is.
“You’ll have to get your arm looked at. Looks broken again.”
“Listen Y/N. You love me right?” You nod back to him.
“Yes, of course I love you FP.” You stutter nervous and he grin.
“That’s my girl, I love you just as much. Please don’t stop.” He leans his forehead on yours and you swallow.
“Why would I?”
“My dad wants me to join the Serpents. I don’t; I can’t. I can’t end up ike him.”
“You won’t. I’ll be here FP, to help you. I swear.”
“But-“
“No matter what FP, anything you need. Anything at all.” He nods swallowing.
“Two things I swear is all.”
“Of course no matter-“
“Can you drive me to the hospital, this is definitely broken.” Fp grins crookedly at you and you nod sliding your keys from the hook they rest on.
“The other thing?”
“Would you join the Serpents?”
“For you?” He nods and you nod back nudging him out the front door towards the car and hospital.
He doesn’t say anything two days later when the bulldogs are signing his cast and you walk in curled under black leather and a bandage wrapped around your wrist.
He doesn’t say anything when he finds you halfway through the school day behind the bleachers, and the locker room, and in the spare classroom that used to house the math club.
He doesn’t say anything when you’re sitting on the couch when he tries to sneak in, his dad mostly sober explaining the rules of the gang towards you. You can see him wince when his dad makes an offhanded comment about the snakes being more important than your boyfriend. You don’t acknowledge it and when FP shows up to your house that night neither of you greet each other just curling up tangled in each other matching bandages up.
“I have to kill him. I have to.” Fp mutters and you hum in agreement, not commenting on how tears well up in his eyes.
“I have to do it, don’t I? I won’t be okay until I do.”
“You’re okay now, you don’t need to…”
“You said you’d be here, no matter what. Please.” He mumbles as you both fall asleep.
You wake up to an empty bed not surprised when you go to school and find FP facing off against the Bulldogs in the hallway. You slide up next to him grimacing at how the just healed bruises on his face are fresh once again, you wonder where he got his tattoo but you don’t have much time to think before he shoves you away from the fight and you watch FP Jones finish killing off any trace of the Northside he once loved as he hits Fred Andrews as hard as he can with his broken hand.
