Chapter Text
We don't have forever, baby daylight's wasting
You better kiss me before our time has run out
Nobody sees what we see, they're just hopelessly gazing
Oh, baby take me before they turn the lights out
Before our time has run out
Baby love me lights out
In the darkest night hour, I'll search through the crowd
Your face is all that I see, I'll give you everything
Baby love me lights out
“XO” by Beyonce
I love you 3000 -- Morgan Stark
64 Days After
He tastes like a mixture of peppermint and nicotine. Betty’s never been fond of cigarettes but the way that it mixes on Jughead’s tongue turns it into something that is uniquely him. It’s intoxicating and she suddenly feels lightheaded and dizzy, as if she’s drunk on his kiss alone.
His arm comes up to lightly hold the side of her head, coarse fingers entangled in her hair. His touch is both so familiar and so foreign at the same time. All she knows is that she just wants more of it.
However, they are standing in the middle of a sidewalk in public and as much as she wants to melt even further into his arms and his kiss, she knows she can’t. They’re supposed to be taking things slow. So as the next song fades and ends, she pulls back and looks at him.
His eyes are still closed as if he’s savoring the moment. When he finally opens them, the clearness of his blue eyes seem to pierce through her soul and she knows that she couldn’t move away from him right now even if she wanted to. She’s completely at his mercy and at his will.
Jughead leans forward and places a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. She remains frozen, wanting to reach out and pull him back down so she can drink him in further.
But, she doesn’t. Instead, she beams up at him, giving him the biggest smile. He returns it and they continue walking towards the subway, hands and hearts interlaced.
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75 Days After
Betty doesn’t really have a lot of stuff.
She’s only been back for two and a half months so she hasn’t had enough time to accumulate things, especially since the Lodge-Mantle household has pretty much everything and anything she needed. So, when Jughead asks if she wants to move back in with him, she’s ready to go in less than 48 hours.
Betty isn’t exactly sure what Veronica’s reaction will be but she tells her almost immediately when she returns from work that day. When she enters the living room, Veronica is sitting on the sofa, rifling through an old fashion magazine.
“Jughead asked me to move back in with him,” Betty blurts out as she sits down on an armchair across from Veronica.
Veronica’s brown eyes widen as she sets down the magazine on the table. “And, what did you say?”
“I told him yes.”
Betty waits, hesitant and cautious, for Veronica's reaction. When Veronica launches herself into Betty’s unsuspecting arms a moment later, the first thing that she thinks about is how much she’ll miss her. She’ll miss this -- the constant support and kindness the Veronica provides. Yes, they’ll probably still talk every single day but it’s a different level of intimacy when you live together under the same roof.
“I’m so happy for you guys, B,” Veronica says as she pulls back and sits back down on the couch. “You deserve this. You and Jughead both deserve to be happy and just move on from the trauma of the last few years. Don’t ever think that you don’t.”
“Thanks, V. I’m going to miss you guys,” Betty responds, listening to Veronica’s words -- truly hearing them. It’s hard to accept. Her mind starts to race and briefly, she starts to backtrack and doubt her own decision. Is it too soon? It’s only been a little over two months. Maybe they need more time apart?
She pauses for a moment before asking her best friend. “Do you think it’s too soon?”
“No.” Veronica’s answer is immediate. “In every universe, post-Blip, post-Snap, whatever the situation is, you guys are meant to be together. I can say that with full certainty. So no, it’s not too soon.”
“I’m happy, V. With him, I’m just really happy, almost stupidly so. And I don’t know, I still feel this weight and this guilt on my chest. Like, am I allowed to be this happy?”
Veronica nods decisively. “Of course, you are. You just have to let yourself.”
Per usual, her best friend is right.
Betty needs to stop questioning it. It felt so right, to say yes to him, to spend the last few weeks falling back in love with him. That’s what she focuses on. That’s what she wants to think about -- not repercussions, not life-changing decisions, and not obstacles.
She focuses on what centers her and what brings her true happiness -- Jughead Jones.
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The apartment -- their apartment -- is like a time capsule. When she steps in through the door, it’s like she’s transported back to 2018.
She only remembers bits and pieces of the changes that Sabrina made to the place when she moved in. Part of Betty tries to block out that interaction entirely because it doesn’t exactly bring back pleasant associations. Now all of it is gone and there are no changes at all.
She walks into the bedroom for a moment, taking it all in: their queen-sized bed and the same dark grey sheets that were on the bed the day that she got snapped. The calendar hanging on the wall next to her bed is still the one from 2018. It looks creased, like it was perhaps stowed away for a while and got slightly bent in the process. But there it is, still hanging as if it had never been touched or altered.
Betty walks back into the living room.
It looks exactly the same. And she hates it.
Because that’s a lie. This apartment shouldn’t look the way it did in 2018 because it’s not 2018 anymore. She’s changed. Jughead’s changed. Their apartment should change too.
Jughead seems wary as he closes the front door and joins her in the living room, watching her take in the space.
“Is-Is it how you remembered?” he asks carefully.
“Yes,” she replies simply, before adding. “I don’t want it to look the same.”
“Oh?”
She turns to him with a small smile and then she walks over and wraps her arm around his back, folding her body into his side.
“Let’s change it.”
“Okay,” he agrees, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Let’s change it.”
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They end up making a pillow fort on the floor of the living room instead of actually sleeping on the bed which she knows is a little strange.
But she can’t bring herself to sleep in that bed anymore. Not when she knows it doesn’t really belong to her and Jughead. Sabrina has slept there. He’s slept in the bed with Sabrina, probably has done other things in that bed with her that Betty doesn’t want to think about. It just doesn’t feel right to lay in it with Jughead again when she knows all that so she doesn’t.
After they brush their teeth and change into their pajamas, Betty stands at the foot of the bed, contemplating how she wants to voice this to Jughead in a calm, rational way. But she doesn’t need to. As always, he seems to know her better than she knows herself.
He enters the room from the bathroom, sees her standing there, and his decision is immediate. He gathers up the pillows and blanket and moves into the living room, dropping everything onto the floor.
“Let’s make a fort,” he declares.
She giggles and readily agrees, gathering the extra blankets and pillows lying around. She dims the lights and helps him adjust the blanket over the couch so it slopes downward and actually creates an enclosed space. There’s not a ton of room but the two of them couldn’t be bothered by it.
Betty snuggles further into him, resting her head against his strong chest. It’s the first time that they’re doing this -- cuddling and sleeping together, intertwined in one another’s arms. It feels a little bit like coming home, which she supposes she is, in a sense.
As they lie on the carpet together watching a documentary about Iron Man, surrounded by a plentiful amount of snacks, she thinks about how grateful she is to be in this moment with him again.
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76 Days After
The furniture slash home store is surprisingly crowded. As Betty and Jughead weave through the groups of people, hand in hand, she wonders if other people had the same thought and urge to do the same thing. It wouldn’t surprise her.
Out with the old, in with the new -- it’s symbolic.
They walk into the bedroom section. There are rows and rows of beds in the showroom -- all plushly decorated, all way too extravagant than she would ever need or desire. Who needs that many pillows on a bed, anyway? It seems excessive.
She flops down on one. There’s a bubblegum pink comforter and so much lace detailing on the design that it’s actually scratchy when it grazes her skin. She lies back, surrounded by fluffy pillows, and pats the area next to her.
“Join me?” she asks with a smile.
He jumps on the bed next to her and she squeals from the movement as it causes her to bounce up and down a few times.
“The mattress is really soft,” she comments.
“Almost too soft, don’t you think?” he tells her.
He’s right. It is too soft and definitely does not provide enough lumbar support. She turns to him, head resting on her open palm, her arm propped up by her elbow. Leaning in slightly, her breath ghosting over his lips, warm and light, she kisses him.
And he kisses her back. She’s not sure how long they spend wrapped in each other’s arms that day, in the middle of a furniture store’s display, kissing like teenagers in love. It’s almost like she’s rediscovering aspects of their love with him all over again even though it was always there -- a part of him, a part of her. Her elastic heart bends and pulls to match his. She mirrors him like he mirrors her.
They do end up picking a bed, amongst other furniture for their apartment, in between kisses. He pulls her into his body and she stays there, wrapped in his warmth for the entire afternoon.
It’s supposed to be a mundane errand -- shopping for furniture. But even as she does it, with Jughead by her side, she’s so deliriously happy. No one can take this away from her -- not even Thanos or death. Because this moment is everything.
He is everything.
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90 Days After
It starts off innocent.
They finished putting together their new couch about an hour ago. The instructions claimed that it would only take twenty minutes but it ends up taking over two hours. They both collapse onto it, victorious after their eventual project success.
They order Chinese takeout because both of them are too exhausted to cook, eating their dinner on the newly built couch. Jughead puts something on in the background but Betty’s not really watching it even though she stares ahead at the screen.
After a few minutes, he bumps her knee with his own, giving her a curious look.
“You okay, Betts?” He takes a bite of the egg roll and sets down his carton of lo mein when she turns to look at him.
“I love you,” she says suddenly. Her green eyes staring intently at him. “I never stopped. I don’t think I can. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you again and I had all these scenarios that I concocted in my head which is so stupid, right? Because I should just tell you. It’s not like it comes as a surprise or anything so I’m telling you-”
He cuts her off and leans forward, closing the space between their bodies and kisses her deeply. She’s not even really processing what’s happening -- that he takes the carton of fried rice from her hands and places it on the coffee table, all the while never breaking the kiss. All she can focus on is the feel of his soft lips against her, so warm and inviting. She melts further into him, letting him pull her onto him easily so she straddles him.
She giggles and he kisses her harder, as if he enjoys eliciting all these noises from her willing body. His hands are everywhere -- in her hair, running lines up and down her back, gripping her bare thighs. She’s only dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a loose t-shirt, one that likely used to belong to him.
There’s no pretense here. She’s just Betty. He’s just Jughead. And, it’s exactly what it should be.
The kisses become harder and filthier. He bites her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, soothing the plump flesh. He tears her shirt over her head and suddenly, she’s naked from the waist up, her body shivering slightly from the sudden lack of clothing. He’s there to warm her up though, protecting her from everything, from the cold, from the world, and sometimes if needed, from himself.
There’s no universe where he wouldn't put her first.
His hands feel rough against her exposed skin and she relishes in the friction. She grinds herself into him further and he growls into her mouth as his fingers trail down to her center, pulling aside the elastic of her sleep shorts as he traces his finger over the fabric of her underwear. His touch is so light, almost teasing.
It’s not enough. It’s too much. How can it be both of these things at the same time?
She hides her face in the crook of his neck as he starts to rub her clit. It’s been so long since they’ve done this. His movements are confident though, like he hasn’t forgotten how to touch her. He pumps a finger into her as he trails kisses down her neck, nipping at her collar bone.
She loves that. He remembers.
His mouth hovers over her breasts and she feels her nipples harden against his hot breath. It takes him all too long to finally cover one breast, sucking it into his mouth, laving his tongue over her sensitive peak. He’s teasing her, drawing out every bit of pleasure and it feels like she might implode from the sensation at any moment. His fingers move faster in and out of her and she knows she’s practically dripping onto him and their new couch. He brings her to her peak and holds her tight as she crashes over the edge, her entire body numb from the pleasure.
Betty feels herself being picked up and carried to their -- definitely their -- new bed. Jughead carefully deposits her on the covers. Her head lolls to the side as she comes down from her high and through a lidded gaze, she sees him divesting himself of all his clothing. He hunches over the bed and her, his index fingers hooking around the side of her shorts and underwear, pulling them down.
She’s not sure why she’s nervous. They’ve had sex a million times before. It’s not like she’s a virgin and this is her first time. But regardless, she feels her body shaking from nerves and she’s hesitant. His body covers hers in an instant and he’s caressing her softly, whispering comforting words into her ear.
She looks up at him, losing herself in his cerulean eyes. Pulling him down, she devours him in another passionate kiss. It soothes her soul and she can feel the nervousness start to melt away, like she’s pulling the certainty and assuredness from his body into hers. She drinks him in -- taking and giving at the same time.
His cock nudges at her thighs and she spreads them, wanting him even closer and deeper -- just more of him, always more.
He groans into their kiss and flips them over suddenly. She’s straddling him, yet again, her green eyes clouded with lust and desire. She reaches down, grabbing his cock firmly, and sinks down in one smooth stroke. Biting her lower lip, she lets the sensation of him inside her again, fully seated, wash over her. Her hips move on their accord and she rides him furiously, not able to hold back or control herself.
She wants to lose control. She’s been so careful with him and their relationship these last three months. Enough of it, just enough.
Her lips lift up so that barely the tip of him is inside her, only to slam her body down on him once again. She repeats this, over and over, until she’s seeing stars in her eyes and he’s gripping her hips so hard that she knows he’s going to leave a mark. Suddenly, his hips tilt and her back is pressed against the mattress, his hot pulsing body vibrating above her.
He drives into her like a man consumed by his basic instincts, fucking her hard. His thrusts are powerful and deep. Her grip on his shoulders tighten and a string of moans escape her mouth as she comes. He holds her hips down, fully sheathed in her when he comes soon after, his release shooting into her, coating her walls.
With labored breaths, he falls into the bed next to her, wiping her sweat coated hair out of her face. He kisses her, so gently.
“I love you, too,” he says simply.
The words completely fill all the cracks in her heart and soul, slowly but surely, mending each and every single one.
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120 Days After
Time passes fluidly, never in a straight line; it fluctuates, expands and contracts. She doesn’t count the days anymore. Her days are not defined by the amount of time it’s been since the Blip. It’s something that fades into the periphery as she gets more and more of her life back again.
Betty sees Veronica pretty much every other day; her best friend insisting on dropping by her office to get lunch. She and Jughead do double dates with her and Reggie frequently. She still has her weekly movie nights with Kevin, filled with all different flavors of popcorn; this week is kettle corn. And most prominently, she and Jughead are good -- really, really good.
She’s tempted to say that it’s gone back to the way it was before but she knows that’s not true. Because they’ve both changed and become different people, a variation of their previous self. It’s for the better. There are still scars but they’re mostly healed by now. She knows, as more time passes, she’ll one day look back on them, knowing they were a part of her past and not her present or future.
They move on, together. Always together.
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It’s been an uneventful Thursday.
This week has been a little nutty at work with all the impending deadlines that the end of the week brings so Betty is grateful that it’s almost Friday and the weekend. She finishes chopping the onions, adding them to the pan so they can saute and brown nicely. Then, she adds the garlic and dried herbs and then the fresh tomatoes and sauce.
It’s slowly simmering by the time she hears Jughead unlock the front door and walk in. He’s home later than usual today because of a big meeting with his agent and publisher. She hears him shuffling in the hallway between the front door and the kitchen and she wonders what’s taking him so long. Poking her head around the corner, she sees that he’s pacing like he’s worried or nervous.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
His head snaps up and his blue eyes are so clear, vulnerable and fragile. She offers him a reassuring smile, asking him about his day and how the meeting went. His steps are slow and heavy as he perches himself on a stool. He hasn’t answered her yet and she cocks her head to the side, curious as she observes him.
“Juggie, what’s wrong?”
He takes in a deep breath and moves into the kitchen so that he’s right in front of her. She drops the wooden spoon back into the pan and smooths her hands over the apron, wiping them at the same time.
“I love you,” he breathes out. He reaches forward and grabs her hands, holding them close to his chest. “I don’t know how I survived when I lost you. When you were snapped, you took a part of me with you, and now that I finally have it back again, I can never let it or you go. I need you by my side, next to me, with me, forever -- from this life to the next. There’s no universe where it’s not you, Betts.”
He starts to kneel down on one leg and she can’t help but audibly gasp before her arms reach out to stop him, pulling him back up so that he’s standing upright in front of her again.
“Don’t kneel,” she tells him. “We’re equals. I want you to ask me this question facing me, not looking up at me.”
He nods lightly, as if acquiescing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a black velvet box and opens it. It’s blinding -- the gleam of the teardrop diamond in a simple platinum setting. “I had a whole speech planned and I think I said most of it but I may have blacked out a bit there so I don’t know-”
She holds a finger to his lips, effectively calming him down and quieting his frenzied speech. “Ask me, Jug.”
“Elizabeth Cooper, will you marry me?”
Her response is instantaneous. “Yes, of course, yes.”
His face breaks out into the widest grin. Slipping the ring onto her finger, he lifts her up into the air and places scattered kisses all over her face and neck. She giggles and playfully demands that he set her down but he doesn’t comply.
He holds her so tightly against his chest that it’s hard to breathe. It doesn’t matter. There’s nowhere else in the world where she’d rather be than here.
Her green eyes trace over the elegant curves of the ring -- she’s engaged. He proposed. She knew he was going to propose, all those years ago. And he finally did -- today.
It was worth it all. The Snap. The pain. The loss. The guilt. All of it was worth it to be in this moment with him.
He is her forever love, the keeper of her elastic heart -- the one that bends and molds to take him in, keep him safe, love him for all the rest of her days and beyond.
When he finally pulls away from her, he’s still smiling.
“Uhh, Betts. I think our dinner is burning.”
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