jughead angst

u like angst? u like fluff?? u like jughead?? ? ME TOO so I write about all them things

[jugheadangst]

i’ll be updating my recent 1/2 fic in the next day or two

however ... my smut seems to be drawing most of the attention

sO if you have any requests of fantasies or sexy things let me know and i’ll write the out

this fucking quarantine garbage is killing me as much as it’s killing you ok i swear to god

[jugheadangst]

Masterlist || Jughead x Reader

I’ll be updating this list as I post new fics - so feel free to bookmark! The first chapter to each fic is linked in its title.

[ series tag // oneshots tag ]

Series

You’re Not Alone

Through Archie’s window, within the neighbor’s house next door, Jughead sees a girl and half her face is busted and bruised. Motivated by his ever bleeding heart, he tries to help her.

Until It Sticks

Since Jughead’s arrival at Southside high school, you’ve been supportive in ways that Betty has failed to be. It makes him realize who he should really be in a relationship with. But just how well will that sit with his Northside friends?

Happy Ending

Washed up and worn out, a significantly older Jughead revisits Riverdale after having left it some 15 years ago. He’s back to find what’s been missing this whole time.

The Fountainhead

Late night writing sessions at Pop’s. You don’t quite catch Jughead’s name but what does it matter? Your broodiness ruins an opportunity at befriending him.

Oneshots

Shots, Shots, Shots

A drinking game with a twist - every time you and Jughead take a shot, you each have to share a secret.

Compromise

You refuse to go to school until Jughead lets you stay with him - wherever that may be.

Don’t Play with Ouija Boards

Jughead finds a gem in a pile of old junk. The possibilities of things going very wrong frighten you, but he promises to protect you.

Wine Snob

An AU where Jughead has been living with his mother this whole time but is now visiting his father over the summer during his break from college. He hit it off with Betty but it is you, the reader, the ends up stealing his heart in the end. Considering the nature of this fic, obviously the characters are over 21.

You, His Muse

Jughead’s at his private school. You show up and surprise him. He surprises you with, uh, his … well, you know.

[jugheadangst]

The Fountainhead [part 1/?]

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word count: 868

Summary: Late night writing sessions at Pop’s. You don’t quite catch Jughead’s name but what does it matter? Your broodiness ruins an opportunity at befriending him.

Warnings: nada !

A/N: Spoilers for Chapter Sixty-Seven of Riverdale. Your POV for this first part. Jughead’s POV for the next (and perhaps final?) part.

It's a little after ten at night and you're sitting in your favorite corner of Pop's Shop. You've been here for several hours now and not many customers have been occupying the seats. There was one couple who had enjoyed a rather late dinner around eight and then occasional person coming in for a late night snack before leaving but, for the most part, you've been alone.

That is until another customer comes in. He has a laptop tucked underneath his arm not unlike the way you tuck yours underneath your arm when you arrive for a late night writing session. Glancing between him and your opened word document, you watch as he scans the diner and then catch him looking in your direction. You focus your gaze back onto your writing and yet still don't miss him as he walks by and settle down into the booth next to yours.

It isn't too long before the sounds of his fingertips tapping against the keys creates a symphony with your own and, every now and then, you catch him glancing over at you. But you only catch him doing this because you're stealing glances of your own. Every time your eyes meet, you snap your head back to face forward, wishing you could hide the warm blush creeping up from your neck to your cheeks.

At some point, the only sound you can hear is that of your own typing. It would seem the other person had stopped what they're doing and, without turning your head, you flick your gaze to your left and find that the guy who had just come in not even an hour before is now staring at you. Pretending not to notice, you keep working away at your story. But you can't pretend to ignore him for too long because —

"You writing an essay or what?" the guy asks.

"Uh..." You look over at him as your voice trails off. Speaking softly, you tell him, "It's a short story, actually."

You catch the corners of his lips quiver into what might have otherwise been a smile if he hadn't hidden it almost as soon as it happened.

"So you're a writer too, then?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I like to think so. Actually, I've been scouted by someone from Yale recently. I guess that means I have some form of skill."

Yale?

You nervously run a hand through your hair and stare out the window next to you into the dark night. You feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. Because that's one hell of a thing to bring up in a casual conversation with a stranger. Oh, he's a writer just like you are but he's being scouted by one of the most prestigious colleges in the country. Good for him, you guess.

"You must be excited," you mumble, turning your gaze back to your laptop's screen. Even if he keeps trying to talk to you, you're going to keep trying to focus on your manuscript. You might not be able to get into Yale but you could still get an agent and perhaps even a book deal at some point, right?

The guy at the table next to you hums and, out of the corner of your eye, you see him shake his head.

"I guess I should be. But I don't know. Part of me is but more than that, a lot of me isn't."

You hum in response similarly to the way he had just done and continued typing away at the keys of your laptop. There's a long silence, then, but he still doesn't look away from you.

"Did I say something wrong?" he finally asks.

"Maybe I'm just a quiet person," you respond.

"Okay. And I'll respect that. But... Well, I don't know..." he trails off and sighs. "Sorry for bothering you."

From the corner of your eye you see him slide across the seat of the booth he had once been occupying and close up his laptop. He walks through the diner and out the door without another single word. You'd be lying if you told someone you weren't bothered by this. Of course, you were bothered by his humblebrag. But you didn't want to completely close off the conversation with this new guy, either. Actually, you were kind of interested in talking to him and now that he's left, you feel a little hurt. Frustrated, too. Maybe you could have been a little less passive-aggressive. Maybe you don't have to sabotage every opportunity you get to make a new friend. But this is just what you do.

"Pop!" you call out. "I'll take the cheque for however many coffees I've drank tonight."

As you wait for Pop to bring over your total, you proceed to pack up your own belongings similar to the guy who had been here only minutes before.

You're done writing for the night. You're a little too upset and bothered to write anything meaningful, anyway.

[jugheadangst]

You, His Muse

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word count: 1,563

Summary: Jughead’s at his private school. You show up and surprise him. He surprises you with, uh, his ... well, you know.

Warnings: schmut, my dude

A/N: bruh, I just gotta’ say ... enough to make me wanna’ get off and I’m not the easiest person to please, oKaY

He sits at his laptop in his small and cramped dorm room. Nothing like how he used to write at Pop's Shop. Something about writing there was freeing. Inspiring, even. But since he arrived at this stuffy old private school ... his inspiration has since evaded him. Jughead can't stand it. But what else is he supposed to do?

He feels a hand on his shoulder and it's you. Jughead turns around in his seat and his eyes light up. When was the last time he laid eyes on you? Here you are, at the private school his father forced him into, lighting up his life.

"What are you doing?" He whispers. But you say nothing. You only remove your hand from his shoulder and back up, sitting upon his bed and gazing into his eyes as he gazes right back at you.

"What are you doing?" He repeats. This time, however, Jughead is getting up to his feet and approaching you. He has this look in his eyes and it's making you nervous. At first, you knew damn well what you were doing. But now, though? You're not all too sure.

"What am I doing?" You ask him, breathless.

He leans down to where you sit upon his dorm room bed and stares into your eyes. His voice is soft and sultry, "I don't know," he says. "You tell me."

Leaning backwards, you cannot even imagine what you could possibly tell him. Instead, you allow him to climb on top of you as you sink into the mattress behind your back and the pillows beneath your head. You sigh as you feel the weight of Jughead's body sink into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, then, drawing him ever so closer. But he pulls back. Snatching up your hands into his, Jughead pushes them up and over your head, pinning you down as he leans down to breathe against your neck.

"What next?" Jughead asks, breathlessly.

But you don't know. Your thoughts are jumbled, head spinning. His touch is just too intoxicating.

"I don't know," you whisper. "Whatever you want."

That was your first mistake. Telling Jughead that he could do to you whatever it was that he wanted. Because with your hands now pinned up and above your head, what else were you to do?

"Yeah?" Jughead asks. "Whatever I want?"

And you whisper a soft, "yes," to which he responds with a grippening of your wrists and a pressing of his body against yours.

"This is what you asked for," he tells you. "Just remember that."

Since he's been at this god-forsaken private school, it's been a long while since Jughead has experienced any form of physical touch. Be it platonic or otherwise. So you can only imagine how depraved he is of your own touch as he begins taking off your clothes ... only releasing your wrists and hips held underneath his own to release you of your shirt, bra, and panties. Now you’re exposed beneath Jughead's fully clothed body and he's smiling down at your nervous, apprehensive form.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks, stroking a hand down your side meanwhile his other still hangs onto your wrists. "You nervous?"

"A little," you whisper. Because you are. But even more than that? You're so desperate for his touch.

"Mmm," he hums. And then again, "Mmm, so cute. So sexy." He continues stroking his hand up and down your side making you quiver.

"Please," you beg, softly. "Please."

"Wait for it," he tells you. "Don't be greedy, now." He smiles down at you even as you're trying to hide your face in the pillow. At once he was trying to hold you down but now he's trying to get you to gaze into his eyes. With very little force, Jughead turns you chin to face him and you're staring right into his eyes. Try as you might to turn away, his grip upon your jaw is just too much. He's forcing you to look into his eyes as he begins grinding against you.

"Is this what you want?" he asks.

Your knees have been apart, welcoming him in the first place, but now they fall even farther, inviting Jughead to keep grinding and perhaps even a little bit more.

"Yes," you whisper, breathless. "Yes, this is what I want!"

Breathing deeply, Jughead presses his face against your neck, mouth just barely brushing against your skin, saying, "Keeping telling me ... is this what you want?"

"Yes!" You're just short of shouting, now. Remember from before: You are completely naked underneath Jughead's form. He is loving all this power he feels from you being completely exposed versus him being absolutely and totally clothed. But now ... he needs a little friction. Now, he needs about as much attention as you do.

You make a soft, desperate sound as Jughead moves up and off of you, watching as he stands so close to the bedside, removing his shirt. He never breaks eye contact with you, however, and you're almost scared to find out what might happen if you break eye contact with him. So you keep on staring and gazing at him as one by one, each of Jughead's pieces of clothing fall off from his form. By the time he's fully exposed — just as you are — your face and fists are buried into a pillow, unable to look at him.

When Jughead speaks your name, you only sigh in response.

"Look at me." His voice is soft at first. But then it's commanding. "Look at me."

So you do. And his naked body makes you sigh and you hold your arms out, inviting him back onto your body the way he had once been before. An invitation he gladly accepts.

You feel the skin of his stomach rub against yours as he positions himself comfortably and, grabbing your wrists into his fists, he presses his forehead against yours, breathing ever so softly. But then he opens up his mouth and you open up yours and now you’re kissing. Softly, lovingly at first. Until his grip tightens on your wrists and he's pressing his lips harder against yours. Now your knees are falling to the sides, inviting Jughead in, once again, and he's sinking into the invitation.

He grinds against you, to start with, but that's not enough. Releasing your wrists just enough to hold himself up, Jughead uses one hand to grab onto himself and press it against you, rubbing up and down and up and down and up and down again against your ever so sensitive entrance ... after he's had his fill of teasing you, he pushes himself in — hard and deep, making you gasp both in pleasure and shock.

As Jughead pulls out of you, you catch his eye but bury your face into the side of the a pillow as he plunges himself back into you, once again.

Clenching your fists, you hear Jughead sigh as your nails press into his skin and he starts thrusting into you faster, urged on by the slight pain you've caused him. And then urged on farther by the sounds of your moaning — both soft and loud. At some point, he reaches down to your clit, rubbing it just the way you like it, meanwhile his other hand is still hanging on to your wrists, holding you down.

But then you just can't take it. You've been trying to release your wrists from Jughead's grip for ages now and he's just not giving up. And as long as he's been filling you up with his cock, he hasn't relented from giving your clit some attention, too. It's just been all too much to handle and you start moaning Jughead's name, begging for release.

"What?" he whispers into your ear. "What? You wanna' cum?"

"Yes!" you gasp. "I wanna' cum so bad!"

"Beg for it, then," Jughead tells you. "Beg to cum, baby."

And so you do. You beg for every which way you can think possible before Jughead finally sighs into your neck and whispers into your ear, "Okay, baby." One more sigh and one more whisper, "You can cum."

You gasp loudly and you do as exactly as you're told. You experience an orgasm like you never have. As Jughead continues rubbing your clit and thrusting deep into you, he bites gently on your neck, sucking on the skin every now and then. Not enough to leave a mark but just enough to send shivers up and down your spine as he continues fucking you to orgasm.

He doesn't stop until you beg him to. And even then, he continues on just a little bit more. Enough to make sure he got the job done right. But you're not complaining. You sink into the bed, satisfied. But then ...

Jughead kisses you ever so softly and then whispers, "But what about me? I haven't finished yet."

You bury your face into the side of the pillow and laugh. Only once you've had your giggle do you face Jughead again, saying ever so softly, "Okay, then, keep going."

[jugheadangst]

im accepting all jughead fics and jughead imagines right now !! message me and I’ll give you some nice thiiiinnnngs~*

my masterlist kinda for the time being

MASTERLIST

https://jugheadangst.tumblr.com/post/175880757195/masterlist-jughead-x-reader

I have a lot of one-shots and a handful of series on my blog if you’d like to check those out in the meantime <33

[jugheadangst]

Wine Snob

Pairing: Jughead x Reader / Jughead x Betty

Word count: 3,486

Summary: An AU where Jughead has been living with his mother this whole time but is now visiting his father over the summer during his break from college. He hit it off with Betty but it is you, the reader, the ends up stealing his heart in the end. Considering the nature of this fic, obviously the characters are over 21.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, tsundere af reader, kissing and touching but not much else - similar to the last one

A/N: ALLOW ME TO GO OFF ON A TANGENT for reference - I suggest any wine by Prophecy tbh. their bottle art is inspired by tarot cards. their sauvignon blanc is my favorite. the bitterness is to die for. Curious Beasts’ chardonnay is also delicious. but dont drink any wine from california because that shit is absolute trash water. just pay the extra money for imports. you’ll thank yourself later. i’ve yet to taste a marlborough wine i dont like sO THERE U GO.

Jughead doesn't like to admit it but he's kind of a sentimental guy. Broody as he might be, when it involves him and someone he cares about, he wants things to be special. Just right. Perfect, even. And so it goes without saying for the date he has with Betty that evening. They had never been close. How could they? Last he knew, she had been pining for Archie. But that was before Jughead's parents separating and before he moved away with his mom and little sister. He had always been given the option to visit his dad over the holidays - he had even been encouraged to do so. But he never actually did. He couldn't forgive his dad for not being able to hold it together for the sake of his family. For a long time, Jughead hated his sad and sorry ass. But as he grew from an adolescent to a young adult - from high school to college - that anger faded. And although he still couldn't forgive his father for being the reason why his family had to fall apart, Jughead could at least tolerate him now. So he decided to finally spend a summer with FP after all these years. Yet it wasn't his father who Jughead has been spending most of the summer with. Instead, it's been Betty. And tonight was the night he hoped to make a move into something serious between the two of them.

But what did it mean to Jughead to make a first date between him and Betty special? He thought that wine might be a good place to start. So he found himself at a store that sold wine exclusively. Not quite his daddy's local liqueur agency.

When Jughead entered, the ring of the bells above the glass door echoed throughout the empty store. For a moment he thought that he was the only one there but far in the back of the store, he heard the tinkling of bottles knocking against bottles.

"Hello!" a voice called out. "I'm back here if you need any assistance!"

Jughead took one long look around the store and called back, "I think I'm going to need assistance."

Standing at the front of the store was a new face. You didn't get these very often. Anyone passing through Riverdale would opt for a more convenient means of attaining their alcohol - grocery stores, mostly. The only ones who passed through the doors were regulars. And this wasn't one of them.

"Is there anything in particular that you're looking for?" It's the first question you always ask on the rare occasion you get new customers.

"Not really," the guy mutters. "I don't actually know anything about wine."

"First time buying?"

"Yeah."

"Best to start with something sweet, then. Although in this summer heat, dry is sometimes better. How well do you hold your alcohol?"

The poor man looks at a loss for words. His mouth is open and his eyes are darting around the store. His visible confusion is beginning to develop into panic.

Sighing, he says, "Look, it's for a date. It's my first one with her. I'm not a drinker and I highly doubt she is, either. I just want something nice."

You pause for a moment before responding, giving him a long look. It's not uncommon for people to become overwhelmed when they seek out a wine that isn't Arbor Mist from the bottom shelf of a grocery store but you can't help but feel like he's being a little rude right now.

"Fine," you say. "Rosé it is. Sweet, like I already said."

Without another word or beckon, you begin walking to the section of the store that sticks out from the rest of the shelves by color alone. This is where liquid in every tint and shade of pink imaginable is kept and it's a favorite among the regulars.

The man stands still in front of the selection and stares blankly at the bottles. You stand next to him, waiting.

"Any suggestions?" he asks, weakly.

You point out a bottle with a blonde woman on the front of it.

"Prophecy makes great wines of every varietal. And the price isn't too expensive either. It's a personal favorite of mine."

Reaching out and taking the bottle that had been pointed to, the man follows you to the register thereafter. He hands you some money and leaves with a muttered, "thanks."

Hopefully you never see that miserable brood again.

The date did not go as Jughead had hoped. Try as hard as he may to have made it special. But how could he have known? As far as he's concerned, it wasn't his fault.

Jughead arrived at her house early and although she was still getting ready, he waited patiently in the living room meanwhile avoiding her mother's glares from the kitchen. He escaped out the front door as soon as Betty made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"So where are you taking me?" she has asked. And Jughead smiled in response. But that's all he did. Shaking his head when Betty prodded for more answers. Once you arrived at your destination, however, she shook her own head and rolled her eyes, muttering, "Sweetwater River? I should have know." Her tone had been playful, though.

"You should have known by the time we started walking through the trees," Jughead had pointed out. And they shared a laugh.

They shared a lot of laughs, in fact. From within his messenger bag slung across his shoulder, Jughead had pulled out a small blanket just big enough for the two of them to sit closely together. He certainly had not intended it to be this way - his bag was small and it was the only way he could fit the wine in along with it.

Which he eventually brought out. Once Jughead thought that him and Betty had settled in and gotten comfortable with each other, that's when he decided to open up the rosé wine he had bought earlier that day. And the laughing stopped. Betty's expression went blank and she just stared at the bottle in Jughead's hands.

"Would you like some?" he asked.

"Not really," she answered, looking away.

"What's wrong?" Jughead asked. "You don't like wine?"

"I don't like alcohol. Period."

"Okay, well, I didn't know. I was just trying to be...romantic, I guess."

The tone of Jughead's voice was deflated and he turned to shove the bottle back into his bag. But when he turned back, Betty was in tears.

"What's wrong?" he repeated. Jughead had moved in to hug her, an attempt to comfort her, but Betty shoved him away. Hard, too.

"Get the fuck away from me!" she shouted. Before he could even process what was going on, Betty was on her feet and running. He could hear her sobs fade as she moved through the woods.

"Goddammit," he muttered. And he got to his feet as well because there was no reason to stick around. Collecting the blanket and stuffing it in where the piece of shit wine bottle already was, Jughead made his way in the direction that Betty disappeared off to. But he wasn't chasing after her. No. He was going home.

Later Jughead would learn from Archie why Betty had reacted so poorly to the offer of alcohol. It had a lot to do with why things became sour between the two of them. According to Archie, he had drank a little too much and they had gotten into a fight. Archie wasn't too kind to her. He thinks that she might have a little bit of trauma attached to what happened and has therefore developed an aversion to alcohol.

"It triggers her," Archie supposed.

"And you know what?" Jughead asked - but, before Archie could respond, he answered his own question. "I don't blame her. Shit like what happened between you and Betty is how my own parents' split developed. So fuck you." Jughead hung up the phone before Archie could say anything back and he ignored follow up calls and texts thereafter.

It sucked what happened between him and Betty. But what sucked even more is that someone Jughead considered to be a friend could turn out to be such an awful person. At one time, he would have sworn that Archie was better than that. But time changes people. And so does alcohol, Jughead supposes. If his own father was any example.

The bottle that had only been partly responsible for his bad date hadn't left his messenger bag since he stuffed it in that night. Not knowing what else to do with it, Jughead had decided to just go ahead and drink it. Or at least try it to taste. Who knows? He might like it. But when he went to go get the bottle from the messenger bag that had laid abandoned by the door since that ill-fated night, it was nowhere to be found.

"Dad..." Jughead muttered with a sigh, shaking his head. It wasn't even worth confronting FP about stealing his ten dollar bottle of wine or about going through his personal possessions. Jughead knows that where it concerns his father, it's best to pick his battles, so he snatches up his keys and decides to drop into the store for another bottle. This time he'll keep it well hidden if he doesn't end up polishing it off by himself. He figures if both his dad and former best friend can do it, why not him, too?

It had been about a week since you'd first seen that rather rude newcomer. You almost thought your wish came true - that you'd never see him again. But as your (albeit bad) luck would have it, that afternoon he returns. You have enough time to expel an exasperated sigh before he reaches the back of the store where you are.

Forcing a smile, you greet him. "What can I help you with today?" Before he can respond, you add, "More delicious rosé wine or are you looking to expand your palate?"

"I'll take your word for it that the wine you sold me is delicious. I wouldn't know. My dad drank it."

Rude as ever, you observe.

"But what about your date?"

"It was a disaster."

You stare at him and he stares back at you. After a long pause, you ask, "So...what is it you're looking for today?"

"Any suggestions for the man that will remain perpetually single?"

"No man remains single with the right wine, I'll assure you that."

His response is the last thing you're expecting. And he looks you dead in the eye as he poses the question, too.

"Does that mean you'll go on a date with me if I pick out the right wine?" You might just be imagining things but you could swear you see an eyebrow of his quiver - as if he's trying his hardest to repress a smug expression.

And broody, standoffish personality be damned, this guy is pretty cute. If you're honest to yourself and fair to him, people tend to say that you're not the most approachable individual, either. Birds of a feather, you suppose.

"I don't know," you reply with a shrug. "For a guy who knows nothing about wines, how could you possibly know what the right one is?"

"I'll figure it out," he says. "I'll do some research and come back to you."

You begin to feel a nervous, giddy feeling welling up in your stomach and it creeps its way up to your throat. You can't remember the last time you felt the flutter of a new romantic possibility and although you had your doubts about this guy at first, you can't deny the attraction that's started to develop.

"Fine," you give in with a sigh. "Do what you gotta' do and pick out a wine that impresses me. But be warned - I'm the one who picks out all the wine sold here so every bottle here is the best if I do say so myself."

"Well that just makes it easy then, doesn't it?" The guy is smiling and he's not repressing any expression of smugnes now.

"Get out of here," you mutter with a wave of your hands. "Don't come back at all, for all I care."

"You care," he says. "You will."

The still broody but now cute man is about to let himself out of the store before you call out to stop him. You just realized something.

"What's your name, anyway?"

"Jughead."

Rather than tell him that that's the stupidest name you've ever heard, you opt to share your own name, instead. And the way he says your name when he calls back a "see you soon" might have made your skin crawl with goosebumps.

Jughead doesn't know a damn thing about wine. But he does his research just as he says he was going to. It's just that it doesn't real help him. Like, at all. He's reading up on everything related to vintage, varietal, and vineyards, but with so many variations of all three, Jughead can't even begin to imagine how anyone could ever possibly pick a favorite from among it all.

But that's when he remembers. The pretty lady at the wine store does have a favorite and she told him. It was the wine he had bought for his date with Betty. She said it was a personal favorite.

That would be the right wine; no research required.

You feel like this Jughead guy walks in a little cocky. That's the first sign that gives away how in for it you really are. But you won't let him take away the spoils just yet. Jughead can walk in with a head full of knowledge and still pick out a wine you don't particularly care for. Though, since working at the store, you've developed a taste for almost everything. You still have your favorites.

"What have you got for me?" you ask him.

And he doesn't respond. Instead, Jughead slinks across the store to the section you had introduced him to the first time he entered. He looks at you. Looks at the bottles. Looks back at you and reaches out for the wine you had suggested.

"It's a personal favorite, no?" You almost want to slap the smile off his face if it wasn't how damn smooth he was being right now.

"That hardly took any effort on your part," you mutter as you ring him up.

"You didn't say I had to work hard for it," Jughead points out. "Just that I had to pick the right wine."

"You win, okay?" Locking eyes with Jughead, you ask, "Now what?"

"Now we go on a date," he responds. That smile you wanted to slap has turned into a shit-eating grin. What have you gotten yourself into?

Lacking any originality whatsoever, Jughead takes you to Sweetwater River. You know this is probably where he had taken his original date - the one that failed so miserably, according to him - but you hardly even care. You quite like the woods and the water. Just because Jughead a poor experience with one woman here didn't mean he had to have a poor experience with another. In fact, you're kind of looking forward to showing him the opposite. Not to get too far ahead of yourself or anything but you've been thinking about him a lot. You also think you're at least a little bit curious about what could happen between you two. Perhaps you were just a tad judgmental. First impressions aren't necessarily the true.

"I don't imagine you had any room for glasses in that little bag of yours," you say with a smile.

"What?" Jughead asks in response. "Got a problem with sharing saliva?"

You laugh and turn away, hoping that Jughead doesn't see the blush that's slowly creeping up your cheeks. You're worried about losing your calm and cool demeanor but this boy is breaking down your defenses and it's almost like he knows it.

After passing the bottle back and forth a few times, you wonder if he likes the taste. And he shrugs, saying that it's alright.

"Maybe if I hang out with you a little while longer, I'll develop a taste for this stuff." Jughead's gaze is piercing into your own and you feel your lips part, your response getting caught in the back of your throat.

"Do you...I mean, is that what you want? To hang out more?"

"Do you?"

"I do."

You don't even hesitate in your response. To cover the pressure of saying anything else or responding to whatever he might say next, you snatch the bottle and begin drinking deeply.

"Save some for me!" Jughead shouts, slapping at your hand and laughing.

The sudden influx of alcohol is something like a shock to your system. You rock back and forth a little bit, feeling quite woozy and dizzy in the head, before collapsing on Jughead. He catches you, though, and you don't notice at first but slowly you begin to realize that he's not pushing you upright. He's holding you in his arms - quite tightly, if you're not mistaken. So you let yourself slip lower so that you're laying in his laps with his arms still wrapped around your shoulders. He's leaning down to compensate for the length you slipped to. And as you gaze up at him, you can see the faint light of stars beginning to peek out of the purple-blue sky as night creeps across the landscape.

"You feeling okay?" Jughead asks. His voice is soft and you relish the deepness it has compared to the sound of when he speaks normally.

You reach up and run a hand across the skin of his cheek, soft as his voice, and whisper, "I feel great."

What you do next can't even be blamed on the alcohol because it's something you've been thinking about since you put Jughead up to the challenge of finding the right wine. Those lips - when he smiles, when he speaks - are just too tempting. So you close the distance between you and him. Reaching up with your other hand, you pull Jughead down and kiss him. Softly, slowly, tentatively at first. Exploring the possibility that he wants this like you do. And when he doesn't pull away, you know that he does. He kisses back harder than you do; gestures more aggressive. You don't mind it at all.

You're losing yourself in the moment of simply kissing and touching. It's been awhile since you've experienced anything remotely similar to this so this alone is enough. But Jughead breaks the moment when he pulls away, a soft pant brushing against the skin of your lips as he does so.

"Are you sure?" he asks. And you wonder what he means. "About this. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm not drunk," you tell him. And you're not. Truly. A little tipsy, sure. Fuzzy around the edges, still dizzy in the head. But, god, you're feeling good. And you feel so much better when his lips are pressing against yours while his fingertips brush against every little bit of skin he can find.

He pauses before he goes on with what he has to say.

"It's not that I don't believe you." He brushes a bit of hair behind your ear and smiles. "I trust you. But drunk or not. I don't want to take advantage of you even being tipsy."

How honorable. You want to roll your eyes but you don't want to be disrespectful to him, either. Not when he's trying to be respectful to you. Because how many other guys wouldn't have scooped you up back to their place by now? Or have just taken you as you are right then?

"Okay," you whisper - albeit reluctantly. "Do we have to stop kissing, though? I really like this."

"I like it, too," Jughead agrees, his smile growing. "And I suppose not." His fingers are trailing underneath your shirt, from your hips up to your ribs and then back down again. "But not much else, okay?"

"Okay," you say again.

Disappointed as you might be, there's a level of comfort you feel welling up from deep within you. It's the feeling of trust. Of certainty. That if this is how he's treating you now, whatever develops from tonight will be special. And if he ever hurts you, it won't be out of intention or selfishness. That's not something you've experienced in a long time - if ever, now that you think about it. And if that's what you're in for, you're okay with waiting it out by simply kissing and touching in the meantime. It'll be worth it.

Tagsies: @murderyoursoul @ secretlyablueunicorn @trumpettay @ raptornsain 

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[jugheadangst]

Don’t Play with Ouija Boards

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word count: 4,230

Summary: Jughead finds a gem in a pile of old junk. The possibilities of things going very wrong frighten you, but he promises to protect you.

Warnings: fluff, kissing, a little bit of steam but it doesn’t go very far

A/N: one time I wore a Ouija necklace to work and a coworker gasped and was like IS THAT A LUIGI BOARD?? she eventually got fired. not for that, no, but for something just as stupid.

It's late at night when you get the text from Jughead.

"hey u up?"

Rolling your eyes, you ditch your phone on the end table next to your bed and return your gaze to your laptop screen. There's no way you're taking that bait. But ten minutes later, your phone is vibrating again and the next text leaves you intrigued.

"I have a surprise"

This could go any way but you trust Jughead enough not to be the average run of the mill fuckboy. He generally prides himself on it.

"ok what"

"come over"

You glance at the time on your phone and the corners of your mouth involuntarily twitch into a frown. It's a little after midnight. On a Saturday, sure, and it's not as if you had any plans the following day to be awake for, but sneaking out at this time to hop across town? To the South Side, especially?

"i don't know, juggie"

Minutes later you hear a soft clatter against your bedroom window and you nearly jump out of your skin. You had been spending the evening watching creepy Youtube videos so you're in a head space to be easily spooked. You peek at the window from the corner of your eye and, not seeing anything particularly menacing outside (or god forbid inside) the glass, you look back at your laptop's screen. You jump again, though, because it had just gone black from inactivity and your own reflection scared you. Laughing nervously to yourself, you swipe your fingers back and forth against your laptop's trackpad and resume your video.

But the soft clatter happens once more and, in the same instant, your phone is vibrating again. You're about to have a mental breakdown and snatch up your phone before shoving yourself away from the edge of your bed and up against its headboard.

"im outside"

Your mind is reeling with all the possibilities of how wrong this could go. A lot of videos you've watched were about unnerving calls from unknown numbers but some of them had also been about texts from contacts in your phone that those people swear they never sent. Although the text says it's from Jughead, is it really?

"your bedroom light is on i know you're up"

You clutch your phone to your chest and feel it rise and fall as you take a deep breath. Shuffling to the edge of your bed, you stand up slowly and take a chance looking out the window.

And there he is. Standing with his arms out and a frustrated expression on his face, Jughead is, in fact, outside your house. You watch as he turns his eyes from you and down to his phone, presumably texting another message to you which pops up on your phone seconds later.

"I was already on my way when i texted you. Let's go"

Between being both spooked and excited, your jitters get you dressed and carry you outside in a few minutes time. Jughead's arms are wide open again, this time in a silent question of, "Can I get a hug?" instead of frustration like before.

Tentatively, you step closer to him. Jughead is a new friend and you're still a little shy around him. And although he's generally pretty distant, the two of you have gotten so close, so quickly. Hugs are normal between you but, knowing he's not the sort of physically affectionate sort of guy, they're special.

Jughead wraps his arms around you before you even have the chance to snake your arms around his waist.  But after a few moments - not wanting things to get weird - you try to pull away. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his arms tighten around you, though, letting the hug linger just a little bit longer.

His hands are still holding on to your arms when he asks, "Did I wake you?"

"No, but you scared me!"

He stares at you for what could be considered a moment too long before he responds softly, "Sorry."

And almost too soon, that moment is gone. He's pulling his hands away from his body and he's already several steps ahead of you, beckoning you into the street.

"So there's this room at the Wyrm they pretty much use as a giant junk drawer," Jughead explains. "I asked my dad if I could pick through it and he said he didn't care. If anyone actually wanted whatever's in there, they wouldn't have put it in there in the first place. Because most of it's trash. But I found something really cool."

You look at him and he stares back. You're waiting for him to tell you what it is he found but it would appear he's waiting for you to ask him.

"My surprise?" you ask. "The one you texted me about?"

Smiling, Jughead nods.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?"

Smile widening, Jughead replies, "I'd rather just show you."

You huff a soft sigh but let him play his games. At that moment, you didn't realize that you'd soon be playing a game, too. But you find out once Jughead ushers you into his dad's trailer and turns on the kitchen light.

The bulb overhead takes a moment to sputter to life before revealing a brown slab of wood. It almost looks like a cutting board, given the context of where it was left, but once your eyes adjust, you see the letters and words scrawled across its surface. It's a Ouija board.

"That's not my surprise!" Your eyes are wide and staring at Jughead. Those jitters that had since settled after leaving your house are beginning to creep their way back underneath your skin.

"Sure it is," Jughead tells you. "I thought we could play it together." Glancing at the clock, he adds, "But we can't do it for another couple of hours."

You look at the clock, too, noting that it was a little after midnight when he started texting you and it's almost one, now.

"Why?"

"Because everyone knows you don't do this sort of stuff until 3am."

3am was a common theme in a lot of the videos you had watched. Type in "3am challenge" and a whole variety of staged and over-exaggerated acting is there for a viewer to at least suspend disbelief for ten minutes. And although you think a lot of those videos are fake, you wonder to yourself, sometimes. You wonder if any of those are real encounters. And you wonder if you're really up for having one of your own.

"I don't know about this, Juggie." You've since taken your eyes away from his to stare at the Ouija board.

Jughead places his hands on your shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. Leaning down, he whispers in your ear, "Hey, nothing's going to get to you as long as I'm here. Okay?" Chills run down your spine and you feel your skin break out in goosebumps. But it's not because of the potential ghosts or demons you might (or might not) encounter tonight.

Your voice shakes slightly when you respond with a soft, "Okay."

The two of you pass the time sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark with nothing but the bright shine of Jughead's laptop screen to keep you company. Beyond its light was pure blackness. You couldn't even make out the shape of counters or furniture because Jughead had drawn the shades tightly shut. You asked him why you couldn't have lights on at least until 3am came close but he said it'd ruin the mood. And as he said this, he slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, resting his head on the top of yours. While this happened, a thought stirred in the back of your mind how spirits will often feed off of "negative" energy like anxiety. You're certainly feeling anxious - but at this point it's not because of any potential spirits lurking on the other side of that piece of decorated wood.

Yet, once 3am rolls around, that's what your anxiety has developed into. Gone are the goosebumps inspired by Jughead's skin brushing against yours because now he's sitting on the other side of you; him on one side of the Ouija board with you on the other.

"Do you know what you're doing?" you ask him.

Laughing softly, he admits, "Not really." You can just barely see his eyes dart across the board in the light of the candle that had since replaced the light form his laptop which was shut and tucked away now. "I mean, I guess we should say hello?"

Nodding, you follow his hands to the corner of the board where HELLO is printed in such pretty lettering, it almost deceives the nature of the wood it's painted upon. Jughead whispers to push the planchette back to the center and you follow his lead once again.

"What should we ask?" he wonders and you shrug. "Should we ask if there are any spirits present?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," you reply softly. You've seen a few people have bad experiences because they've asked that question. It's like an invitation for all sorts of bad things to happen.

"Well who else are we going to talk to?" And Jughead has a point. So you give in. But even as he asks about the presence of spirits that may or may not be lurking in the trailer, the planchette doesn't so much as twitch. Jughead asks again only to get the same result.

"I knew those videos were scripted and exaggerated," you mutter. But even though you were well aware of Youtubers doing stupid shit for views, secretly you kind of hoped that some of it was real. Or at least one of the encounters had been.

"Let's ask a different question," Jughead suggests. "Like, just because there aren't any spirits hanging around right now doesn't mean we can't ask one to drop in to have a chat."

"That sounds worse than talking to ones haunting your trailer park. To just invite one in from god knows what corner of the ethereal realms of...like...the fucking universe? I don't know."

"Well if you don't know and you don't have any better suggestions then we're going with mine." Jughead wins again. Though at this point, you kind of want to talk to some spirits. Nervous as you are, you're also excited.

"Can we talk to a spirit?" Jughead calls out - about as loudly as he can with his father sleeping in the next room. Looking you in the eyes, he adds, "Any spirit at all."

"Jughead, no!" you hiss. "Only good spirits!"

"But that's no fun."

Once again, the planchette hardly moves. And just as you're about to express your disappointment, you feel a push and then a tug.

"Jughead, is that you?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"It wasn't me!"

You see the corners of Jughead's mouth twitch and you can't tell if he's trying to hide a smile or a grimace.

"Is there a spirit here? Can we talk to it?"

A pause and then the planchette is being moved to the place where it says yes. You want to accuse Jughead of moving it but you kind of feel like your hand is being guided in that direction. So if you're going to accuse anyone, maybe you should accuse yourself? Because what if your hand isn't being guided by a spirit at all? What if you're subconsciously moving the planchette in the direction you want it to go without truly realizing it?

"Holy shit," Jughead whispers as he watches both of your hands follow the planchette back to the center of the board. "Should we ask if it's a good spirit?"

"Well of course it's going to say yes. Ask if it's Zozo."

"Zo-who?"

"It's the most common demon-spirit-thing that haunts Ouija boards and those who use them."

Mimicking your voice, he replies, "Well of course it's going to say yes."

Rolling your eyes, you speak motivated by your newfound confidence in actually wanting to be scared now.

"Are you Zozo?" you ask. And, just as you thought - or at least hoped - it would, the planchette moves to yes. Which is amusing, sure, but the next thing that happens is frightening. It starts moving around in circles. But then, in the same instant, it shoots to the center of the Ouija board again before making that dreaded figure eight motion. The reason why this is so scary to you is that if Jughead doesn't even know who - or what - Zozo is, then how can he be moving the planchette in the motion that means Zozo is most definitely present.

"You're fucking with me," you whisper aggressively. "And you lied. You know who Zozo is. You're the reason why the planchette is moving like this."

"Me?" he whispers back - with just as much irritation. "You seem to know so much about Zozo and these 3am challenges. How do I know you're not the one doing this? Asking about Zozo was your idea!"

As this heated conversation is taking place, the planchette is beginning to move faster and faster. Picking up speed with every few rounds.

"Fine!" You rip your fingertips from the planchette.

And the movement stops.

Jughead looks from where his own fingertips remain on the planchette and then looks up at you, his mouth dropped open.

"That doesn't mean anything! You can stop moving your hands just as much as I can!"

"Really? I knew you were going to remove your hands right at that moment? The planchette didn't even so much as twitch when you let go."

You huff a sigh and push yourself to your feet, muttering, "This is stupid." You cross your arms and walk out of the kitchen, into the small living room that is attached to it. You almost sit on his dad, forgetting that he sleeps there so Jughead can have the bedroom.

The small candlelight in the kitchen goes out and you hear footsteps approaching. If that little game had gone better, you might have been a little bit spooked. But because you're so irritated of being accused of something that wasn't true - and maybe even disappointed that these Ouija board things aren't all they're cracked up to be in videos and movies - you're not even the slightest bit anxious. Until you feel fingertips that had once been on the planchette now on your elbows, moving you into the bedroom the same way the little teardrop shaped object had been moved across the board.

"Sleep here," you feel Jughead's breath breeze across your ear as he whispers. "It's too late to walk you back home."

"Where?" you ask. "On the floor?"

Jughead had been pushing you forward at first but now you're being pulled. You hear the groans of the springs in the bed as the decompress under the weight of his body and then you're tripping on his feet, collapsing against his body with a less than graceful movement.

"In bed," he continues whisper, wrapping his arms around your waist. "With me."

You let your body be pulled up further onto the bed, allowing Jughead to adjust your two forms to however he sees to fit. In the end, you're still on top of him; his knees bent so that they hold your hips between them, his feet pressed against the sides of your thighs, his arms gripping your upper half tightly, and his chin lightly laid on the top of your head, while you lay against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat and it's kind of fast, if you say so yourself. You can also hear his breath, which isn't what you'd consider to be very level or even. He's nervous. But so are you.

"Juggie-" you try to whisper. But he makes a "shh" sound and tangles the fingers of one hand into your hair. You feel him press his lips against the top of your head in a soft kiss. And it occurs to you just how tired you are.  Prior irritation forgotten after having been distracted by Jughead's bold gestures.  Nervous, heart racing. But also...comforted. Sleepy.

You awake the next morning in the same way you had fallen asleep - wrapped up in various limbs of Jughead's. To your surprise, there had been no awkwardness at all. He felt you stirring - trying to adjust to a better position so that his heel wasn't digging into your leg - and woke up. His sleepy eyes and small smile might have melted you more than a little bit. He was the first to express a raspy "good morning" and you kind of liked the way he sounded after just having woken up. His voice was deeper than usual - thick - and it made the nerves beneath your skin electric. He had started to trace his fingers up and down your back and it made you shiver. Eventually though, after a short time sharing nonsense pillow talk, you leave his bedroom and his trailer to walk home. He offered to walk with you but you declined, thinking it a bad idea for your mother to see you coming home with a guy after having been out all night. Who knows if she had peeked her head in while going to the bathroom late into the evening and found out that you were gone? Patting your pockets, you realized you had ditched your phone next to your laptop on your bed. If she had found out you were gone and was trying to reach you, she wouldn't have gotten very far. And you can imagine she'll be furious.

But when you got home, even your mother was still asleep. The house was quiet and you see your room just as you had left it. Casting your electronics to the side, you tuck yourself in for a few more hours of sleep - only having had a few after last night's 3am escapades.

You had been texting Jughead throughout the day - neither really mentioning the previous night or what had happened after the little Ouija board game - so you spend the morning, afternoon, and right into the evening feeling pretty good. The occasional sweeter than most texts give you the warm and fuzzies and you have a smile on your face more often than not. All in all, you think you're going to go to bed feeling as good as you had the night before - though, admittedly, you would definitely feel better if Jughead was there wrapped around you again.

This notion doesn't end up manifesting, however, because the longer the night goes on and the darker it gets, the more uneasy you begin to feel. Fleeting shadows in the corner of your eyes and the smallest of sounds making you jump out of your skin leave you with that buzzing anxious feeling you had last night while you were watching paranormal videos alone. The final nail in the coffin, however, is when you make a startling - and quite frightening - realization.

"WE DIDNT SAY GOODBYE"

Your hands are shaking as you tap the message out on your phone and your paranoia is growing as every little thing is spooking you straight out of your skin.

"what do you mean yes we did"

"the Ouija board! We never said goodbye!"

"idgi"

You're frustrated with his ignorance and are having a hard time typing out the long message required to explain to him what you mean. By the time you hit send, the shaking has moved from your fingers, up your arms, and into your whole body.

Whether you're just messing around or not, it's ill-advised to stop using a Ouija board when you haven't moved it over the GOODBYE printed upon it - similar to how you open a session by moving it over the HELLO. This holds especially true if you've had an encounter with Zozo because, if you do not do this one crucial step, he might leak out of the session and into your everyday life. And right now, you feel like that's what's happening. And the more paranoid you get, the more negative energy Zozo has to feed off of. You don't think you're going to be able to hold it together on your own tonight. Not like this.

"could u just come over pls"

"On my way"

By the time Jughead arrives, your paranoia and anxiety have reached an all-time high and you collapse into his arms in tears once the two of you are safe behind the door of your bedroom. As safe as you can possibly feel, at least. But now that he's here, you're already breathing a little easier.

"Hey," he whispers, running his fingers through your hair. "Hey, hey, hey, don't cry. It's okay." He makes the soft "shh" sound that you're quickly growing to be familiar with and allow him to pull you to the bed - your own bed, this time.

"I'm here now," he continues to whisper. "Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm going to keep you safe."

It doesn't take long - between his hushing and his arms gripping you tightly - for you to calm down and stop crying. The promise he made to keep you safe is one that you can believe. You trust him.

"Stupid," you eventually mutter. "So stupid."

"What is?"

"Me. It's just a dumb piece of wood. A dumb myth. And I'm dumb for getting worked up over it."

"You're not dumb," he replies. His voice is soft and comforting. His arms are strong and warm.

"You must think I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, either. Just scared." He takes his arms away from your body for a moment to hold your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks gently. "I want to protect you."

Your stomach feels like it just dropped out of your body but not in a bad way. The nervousness you feel now is the good kind. Although you're still a little strung from the paranoia, the anxiousness you currently feel is that of curiosity and newness.

You wrap your arms around Jughead's shoulders and whisper, "Protect me then."

Jughead's eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back again. He licks his own and glances up at the ceiling. You see a slight shake of his head- and it's the last thing you see before your vision is shrouded by his mop of dark hair and you feel his lips being pressed against your own. There's no tentativeness to his movement. Just confidence. And ownership, almost.

What seems like fog begins to invade your head as you allow your senses and feelings to guide everything that happens next. And it seems like Jughead is doing the same. He's moving your body and its parts and you're letting him. Where you had once been laying next to each other, you now find yourself under him. And he lifts himself up for just a moment, to gaze down at you, and as you gaze back up at him, he looks bigger than you ever remember him being. Or else you just feel small. And you like that feeling.

As he closes the space between the two of you once again, you hear him softly mutter two words. "Protecting you." You feel him hook his arms underneath your back so that they curl around your shoulders. His hands are in your hair, tugging gently. And you find that your hands are doing the same to his. You part your knees just enough for him to be able to lay between them so that your bodies are pressed as close together as they possibly can be. But when you feel one of his arms move from their place underneath you, to play with the hem of your shirt instead, you feel a sting of that familiar anxiety you had earlier that night before Jughead arrived. And when that hand moves from fabric to skin, you get a little startled.

"Not yet," you say immediately. You catch his hand with your own and shake your head. You see the confused look on his face. "Not farther." The confusion turns into understanding, though, and he nods.

"Okay," he says softly. And he repeats, "Not yet."

Neither of you move. Jughead likely doesn't dare to. Doesn't want to scare you. He is supposed to be protecting you, after all. And his face is flushed. Whether it's from heat or nervousness, you can't be sure. But you don't want him to feel bad. Because you like him. You really do. Just...not yet.

You bite your lip and pause before saying with a smile, "I'd like to keep kissing, though. Is that okay?"

Jughead returns the smile and is nodding again.

"Okay," he agrees.

Demons and unclosed Ouija sessions forgotten, the only thing you're thinking about now is Jughead and his strong arms yet so soft of a touch. You might also be wondering what could happen if the two of your decided to pull out that Ouija board again. Zozo lore be damned; he's one hell of a match maker.

(sorry to skip the tag list on this one; the file with all the names is on my other computer - nEXT TIME i swear)

[jugheadangst]

a snippet of what I’m working on;

I feel like crap for not posting anything substantial to this blog in a long time but I realized the first chapter of “Happy Ending” needs to be eNTIRELY REWRITTEN because the direction it would have went in wouldn’t have had a satisfying development or ending (the irony lmao). that’s why I haven’t updated with new chapters because the ones I had written and ready nEED TO BE THROWN OUT like im literally starting from the ground up here and the frustration of this has really bogged me down so I’m writing this instead to get my ~ mojo ~ back. it’ll be a one-shot. I don’t think I can work on a series when I’m fighting with the plot and development of one already

Spending his most impressionable years surrounded by murder and deceit hadn't had the most positive effects on him. As he moved into adulthood and after the events that all but intoxicated his adolescence began to slow down, Jughead couldn't put his finger on who he even was at that point. Who was he really when he wasn't supporting his friends or trying to pull up clues like weeds from the dying garden that had been his hometown? Jughead couldn't even ask himself who he had been before that because during the time he should have been developing any substantial sense of self, the death of Jason Blossom and the murders of the Black Hood were in full swing. Nothing that had happened during that time or at any point after that had contributed to defining Jughead's personal character. Rather, it distracted him from it. All of this eventually left him with wondering where he was meant to go from there. With most of Riverdale's mysteries wrapped up, what was Jughead supposed to do now?

He's had some ideas. He's kept himself busy. Sometimes he would help out with shifts at Pop's under the table. Other times he'd tap away at a novel he knew he was just going to scrap in another month or so anyway. Jughead even considered putting together a book of free form poetry - the kind that are composed of edgy one-liners and convoluted meanings that only the writer understands but readers will pretend they do, too. Still, though. As busy as Jughead tried to keep himself, the things he filled his time with failed to fill the void he felt within himself. These were all distractions at best. Nothing truly meaningful.

idk when it’ll be finished but I do like how it’s coming along so far and it’ll have the usual over-abundance of fluff and angst xo

[jugheadangst]

Happy Ending [part 1/?]

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word count: 1,629

Summary: Washed up and worn out, a significantly older Jughead revisits Riverdale after having left it some 15 years ago. He’s back to find what’s been missing this whole time.

A/N: This is significantly influenced by Alex Cameron’s song by the same name. You can listen to it here [link] and watch a Bowie-esque man awkwardly dance but look adorable doing it at the same time, somehow. It’s a song that haunts me and listening to it will give you a good idea of what the theme and atmosphere of the writing will be.

This is a very, very Jughead-centric fic.

Jughead stands in the middle of the dark street, head hung low as he reads the address scribbled on the crumpled scrap of paper he holds in his calloused, dirty hand. Glancing up, he confirms that the house looming in front of him is a match so he stuffs the paper back in his pocket and begins walking up the path to the front door. Jughead hears the shrieks and laughter of children playing inside and as he reaches out to ring the doorbell, he catches the surname ANDREWS printed on the mailbox from the corner of his eye. Now he definitely knows for sure that he's in the right place.

All things considered, Jughead isn't too sure who he wishes would answer the door so fate picks for him.

Betty's mouth drops the second she sees him. One hand on the door, the other covering her shocked expression, she gasps, "Oh my god!" When Jughead doesn't respond - opting only to stare at her with his head slightly downcast, she exclaims, "It's been years!"

"Invite in an old friend?"

"Yes, god, come in" she says.

Backing up, Betty beckons Jughead into her home and ushers him into the living room just off to the side of the foyer. The kids have stopped their loud playing and are now standing quietly, staring at Jughead with blank expressions. The youngest, a girl, has blonde hair just like her mother. And the older, a boy, has red hair just like his father.

Once sat down and settled in, Betty says softly, "No one's seen you in fifteen years, Jughead. What the hell happened?"

But she knows what happened. Or is it that time dulled her memory? Betty can't have honestly thought that all these years, she had nothing to do with Jughead up and leaving Riverdale not long before their graduation.

Betty and Jughead had shared together a great relationship throughout their high school years and he had been looking forward to it lasting the rest of their lives. But all of the colleges Betty applied to were out of state. She got accepted by her first pick which was located on the other side of the country. She insisted that the two of them could make it work but Jughead knew it wouldn't last. If the distance didn't tear the two of them apart first, then it would be how busy and occupied her coursework will keep her. Leaving Jughead isolated with only his half-baked novel ideas to keep him company. So he suggested a split. This broke Betty's heart. And as always, she found comfort in Archie.

Her birthday followed not long after the split and waiting for her wrapped up nice in a neat little bow was a gift box that had within it a ring. Archie proposed in front of everyone - Jughead included. He reminisced about the time when he asked Betty to marry him when there were kids and she told him to wait until they were eighteen because then she would say yes. And she did. Without a single second glance in Jughead's direction, Betty accepted Archie's proposal. And to really rub salt in the wound, when Archie wrapped Betty up tight in his arms, he said to her - just loud enough for Jughead to hear - "I'll wait for you. I've been waiting this long." It's at that point Jughead walked out and that's the last time he saw anyone from Riverdale. And the last time anyone from Riverdale saw him.

"You honestly don't remember?" Jughead's voice is low and he hears that his tone might let on to his irritation more than he would prefer. "You don't remember the last day you saw me?"

"I- well-" Betty is tripping over her words, trying to communicate her thoughts and feelings but failing. "I do," she finally manages. "So I guess I'm not really asking what happened but why it happened."

Jughead scoffs and looks away from Betty. He almost can't bear the sight of her and yet he wants to keep looking into her eyes because she's just as beautiful as she remembers - perhaps even more so. She has a certain glow to her that she never had before. Marriage and motherhood look good on her. House with a white picket fence and all.

"It doesn't matter," Jughead finally mutters after a long moment of silence.

"Yes it does," Betty insists. "Where did you go? What have you even been doing all these years?"

He can't account for all of them. Jughead remembers picking up his dad's old habit - like father like son - and moving around a lot. Not having a home to come back to every night and finding shelter wherever he could was something he was experienced in. Eventually he settled down, though - as settled as he could be. Jughead found a run down one bedroom that he shared with someone else. Of course his roommate got the bed and Jughead got the couch. But his roommate did help him find work, for what it was worth. Jughead's spent the past five years of his life working overtime in a mill that wasn't in much better shape than his living quarters. He told her that he passed the time drinking. What he didn't tell her is that he also passed the time with as many blonde girls as he could find. And yet none of them could compare to what he had left behind in Riverdale.  This, coupled with being laid off, is what brought him back to his hometown.

After filling Betty in, Jughead finishes with, "You know, the thing I was trying to run away from had been the one thing I needed the most. I was missing something. I was missing you."

"Jughead," Betty whispers. "Jughead, no. You need to move on. I've moved on."

Jughead clenches his jaw and a tight smile stretches across his face.

"Wasn't too hard, was it? Not even a month after we break up, you're engaged to a guy who said he would never feel for you what I felt for you. What I still feel for you!"

Slowly, Jughead's voice is beginning to rise. Betty's children have since rushes to the kitchen but are still peeking around the doorframe. Both are covering their ears.

"Jughead, the kids," Betty scolds. "You can't just come into my home and act out like this. You can't do these things that you used to do." Sighing, she says softly, "I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

As she gets to her feet, Jughead's arm shoots out and he catches Betty's wrist in his hand. He catches the look of fear that takes over her expression and she's quick to try and pull away but he doesn't let her.

"Jughead, please," Betty begs after a few failed tugs. "Please let me go."

"No," Jughead responds. "Not until you agree to come with me."

"Where, Jughead? Where do you intend to go?"

"Anywhere. Wherever you want to go. Name it and we'll leave."

"I can't just leave! What about the kids? What about Archie? I can't just throw my life to the wind like you and your father have. I don't even want to."

Jughead's been compared to his father so many times in his life that it doesn't even sting anymore. It's what she said last that hurts a little bit.

"Don't want to what?" Jughead asks.

"Leave. With you. I don't feel anything for you anymore, Jughead. I told you, I've moved on."

Distracted, Jughead doesn't catch Betty's hand when she finally manages to yank it away. He watches as she walks out of the living room and to the front door. She stands there, staring at him, seemingly waiting.

"Come on, Jughead," she says, voice weak. "You need to leave. Right now." For emphasis, Betty opens the door and the cool night air comes rushing in.

Jughead sighs and stands up, frustrated with how easily he's giving up but even more so with the fact that there's no possible way for him to change her mind. Betty made up her mind over a decade ago.

Just before Jughead gets over the welcome mat leading into her home, Betty asks, "Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"I'll figure it out," Jughead mutters. "I always have, haven't I?"

Shrugging, Betty responds, "I would have offered for you to stay here but...you kind of messed that up."

"Just remember, Betty Andrews," Jughead spits out the surname like it's been leaving a bad taste in his mouth. "You're the one who messed up first."

"Goodbye, Jughead."

Betty closes the in an instant. She doesn't even give Jughead a second glance.

He can't even find it in himself to be angry. Jughead is hurt more than anything else. And although he meant what he said - that she was the one who messed up first - it wasn't necessarily the truth. Sure, it's what he felt like was the truth. But he knew that deep, deep down, Jughead messed up when he broke up with Betty because she was going to college in a different state. Maybe if he had been the one who waited - and not Archie - then her last name would now be Jones and one of those kids would have dark hair like him.

Jughead wasn't sure what he had expected upon coming back here to Riverdale. Some part of him had hoped that Betty would be single - adolescent hubris breaking up the engagement that had driven him out some fifteen years ago. But realistically he knew such wouldn't be the case. And was was right. She's obviously found her happy ending. Now he has to find his.

Tagsies: @raptornsain

Message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Also mention if you’d like to be tagged for just this fic only or all my fics in the future~

[jugheadangst]

Until It Sticks [part 6/6]

[ part 1 // part 5 ]

Pairing: Jughead x Serpent!Reader

Word count: 2,444

Summary: Since Jughead’s arrival at Southside high school, you’ve been supportive in ways that Betty has failed to be. It makes him realize who he should really be in a relationship with. But just how well will that sit with his Northside friends?

Warnings: LOTS AND LOTS of swearing this time dang, prettyboy beatdowns

A/N: FINAL CHAPTER!! i didnt really predict this being the last one but it worked out well. for context - this chapter is during the timeline of events where Betty and Alice had never even set foot in the Wyrm

as one final note, this fic was a request by @castiel-123 ; thank you so much for the idea ~*

It's a quiet evening at the Whyte Wyrm. You and Sweet Pea are trying to beat each other's scores on some arcade games meanwhile Jughead sits at a table close to you two, tapping away at his keyboard. And although the quiet is broken by some yelling at the door, you don't think twice about it because fights are a pretty regular thing at the bar - even among fellow (drunk) gang members. Tonight is a little different, however, because upon glancing across the bar, you see bright blonde lock alongside a flash of striking ginger hair.

"Jughead!" You reach out your arm and wave your hand in your boyfriend's face in a desperate attempt to catch his attention. "Jughead, isn't that Betty?"

Turning, his mouth drops open.

"And Archie," he mutters. It's not long before he's on his feet and when you stand up to join him, Jughead extends his arm to block your passage, telling you to stay where you are.

You catch the precise moment when Betty notices Jughead across the room. Her mouth drops open - just as her ex-boyfriend's had not even seconds ago - and then she's briskly stomping through the bar. Jughead doesn't walk forward to meet her. He stays right where he is and has since moved his so that it no longer covers your body. His hand is now tightly gripping your wrist.

Pointing a shaking finger at you, Betty demands, "Is this her?"

"If by her, you mean my girlfriend, then yes," Jughead responds. "Betty, this is Y/N." Turning to you, he adds, "Y/N, this is my ex-girlfriend Betty."

"I wouldn't be his ex-girlfriend if it wasn't for you," Betty snaps. "Ever since he started going to Southside high school. Ever since he met you. Everything has been a disaster."

"That is such bullshit, and you know it!" Jughead's voice is starting to rise and usually you feel a little uneasy when he's angry. But right now you actually like it a little because he's defending you after being accused of something you didn't have any part of. And he's sure to tell her that.

"I've already told you that our relationship has been falling apart for a long, long time. It has nothing to do with anyone I know or anyone I've recently met. It has everything to do with how you treat me. We've been over this already."

"I don't believe it," Betty says; her voice a soft contrast to Jughead's.

"You know what I don't believe? What I actually can't believe?" Jughead answers his own question before his ex-girlfriend has a chance to respond. "I can't believe you would come here to raise hell and I especially can't fucking believe you would drag Archie along with you."

"Hey!" Archie cuts in. "I came with her so I can protect her."

"Protect her from what?" Jughead holds out his arms, gesturing to everyone gathered at the bar who were now focused on the fighting teenagers at the center. "You think these guys would beat the shit out of her or something?"

"They've certainly done worse," Archie mutters.

It's Sweet Pea's turn to cut in now and, shouldering past Jughead, he walks up to Archie so that his face is only a mere inch from the redhead's.

"Friendly suggestion? I'd quit while you're still ahead. Best not to get involved with things that are none of your concern."

"Betty is my friend," Archie says through gritted teeth.

"And I thought I was your friend, too!" Jughead hollers. "But I guess I was wrong. I see where your loyalties lie. Same place they always have. God, you two really are fucking made for each other."

Everything has escalated so quickly and in such a short time, too. You're beginning to worry that the altercation will become physical and just as you think this, it does. After being challenged by Jughead, Archie is plunging his fist directly against Jughead's nose. Sweet Pea is quick to jump in to defend his own and as it all happens, you feel your arm being yanked on by someone you didn't realize had been on standby this whole time - Toni. You also see that her other hand is occupied by another peron's arm. That arm belonging to Betty.

Toni drags the two of you into a back room and closes the door. You can hear the eruption of fighting outside the room - it's so loud that the door between your small group and the large group out there isn't muffling much. Before turning to you and Betty, she yanks her beloved camera from around her neck and places it on a table against the wall.

"You came here for Y/N," Toni starts. "Here she is. Now what do you hope to accomplish?"

Betty's biting on her lip, fists balled by her sides, looking between you and Toni.

"I don't know," she eventually mumbles. Tears are starting to streak down her cheeks. "I've never seen her before. I guess I wanted to know if she was...prettier. Smarter. Just better. In ways that I couldn't be. I don't know."

Betty is all but babbling to herself meanwhile trying to put into words her thought process behind crashing the Wyrm.

"I can tell you what I know," Toni responds. "I know that you're not here for Jughead because you've already been to his house. You've already said what you need to say to him. So there's no reason for you to come to the Wyrm to pick a fight with him."

"Don't pick a fight with me!" You protest. "I had nothing to do with breaking up you and Jughead! That thought never ever crossed my mind!" You sigh. The frustration you feel welling up inside you is making you anxious. It's only a little bit irritating to be accused of doing something you intentionally went out of your way not to do.

"Full disclosure," you continue. "I did like Jughead from day one. From the moment he walked through the school doors, I was absolutely enamored. We grew close because I actively engaged him in conversation as often as possible. I knew he had a girlfriend because he talked about her a lot. In almost every one of those conversations. And as much as that hurt, I never tried to do or say anything that might break you up. Because I certainly wouldn't want anyone to do that to me. But it wasn't too long before these conversations about you turned sour and he didn't have the best things to say about you anymore. And yet I never said a damn thing in response. I never gave him advice. I only ever listened. I let him vent but I never told him what to think, how to feel, or even what to do. He certainly asked. But I never responded. Because I knew it wasn't my place." After all but pouring out your heart to the blonde girl standing in front of you, you take a deep breath. Concluding, "So for you to come here just to accuse me of something I didn't even do, that reflects more on your character than it does mine. You've got it all wrong."

There's a moment of silence following what you say and Betty doesn't look like she has anything to respond with so Toni speaks up.

"Do you still care for Jughead?" Betty nods. "Not saying that there's even going to be an opportunity for it but if at all possible, if there's the possibility for the two of you to be friends after all this is said and done, would you like to do that?" Betty nods again. "Okay, well, from a non-biased outsider perspective, can I just say I think it's really shitty for someone who says they still care about a person and still wants to be friends with that person to say that they don't trust anything they've been told by that person. You know what I mean?"

"As far I've been told," you cut in. "Betty, you've never been happy with any of the choices Jughead has made for himself. So it's not surprising that this is any different."

A sob escapes Betty and she's crying over her words.

"You guys are ganging up on me right now!"

Toni just about loses it right then. Getting in Betty's face, she shouts, "You and Archie were ganging on Jughead out there! Don't fucking try and play the victim now!"

Betty crumples to the floor where she had previously been standing and is sobbing into her hands. It's right at that moment that the door swings open and Archie is shouting over the commotion still happening outside in the main room of the bar.

"Betty, let's go! We're leaving!"

When Betty doesn't budge, Archie stomps across the floor and grabs her by her hand, pulling her up. He holds her close against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her body - as if protecting her - while walking back out into the bar. You and Toni watch them leave before looking at each other.

"I can't imagine it would have ended any better if that kid hadn't come in for her," Toni mutters shaking her head.

"What did she even expect to- oh my god!"

Your response is cut off by Sweet Pea dragging Jughead into the room and slamming the door behind them. He pushes the limp body off of his shoulder and onto the sofa before sitting down, too. Both of them are bloodied up pretty sorely - Jughead more than Sweet Pea, however. When Archie came and went, it's not like he looked any better.

"Well, that happened," Toni says with a sigh. She sits down next to Jughead and looks at him, asking, "Now what?"

Toni isn't even trying to heal or console the two boys. You aren't, either. This kind of thing happened all the time and it was all so stupid to begin with - whether it was their fault or not. Everyone involved walked away beat up and bruised with no resolution in sight.

"I'm so fucking done," Jughead mutters. "I'm so fed up and I'm just fucking done."

He lets his head roll so that he can look at you and he reached out one hand, beckoning you over. And you walk towards him, stretching out your own hand so that it meets his. Once your hands are clasped together, he pulls you into his lap and wraps you up tight in his arms. Sweet Pea and Toni only just barely nudge over to make room for you.

"It's not fair," he whispers into your ear. Jughead is rocking you back and forth but you imagine it's more for his own comfort than yours. "No one deserves for their relationship to be filled with this much shit."

"Jughead has a knack for that," Toni observes. "With Betty it was internal drama. Now, with you, it's external."

"Internal or external, the source is always Betty," Sweet Pea adds. "Notice a trend?"

"That trend won't last for long." Toni gets up to her feet and walks across the room, picking up her camera and holding it up, smiling. When no one asks why she's doing it - not willing to give her that kind of satisfaction, she huffs.

"While you guys were talking, I was taking pictures," she explains. Joining the group back on the sofa, she pulls up the photos she had saved, flicking through them all. "I even caught the exact moment when Archie punched Jughead before grabbing Y/N and Betty."

"You caught everything before that, too," says Sweet Pea. "But so what?"

"So what if Betty's mother got a hold of these?" Toni is grinning and it looks just downright evil. "Can you imagine what her mom would do if she found out Betty was hanging around here?"

"She would lose it," Jughead responds. "Alice only barely tolerated me while me and Betty were dating but if she found out Betty came here? And a fight broke out? Betty would be on lockdown for weeks."

"I'll print these out and get them to you tomorrow," Toni says, bouncing off the couch. "You're welcome."

It only then occurs to you that the reason why you hadn't been aware of Toni during the confrontation was because she had been hiding out in the background, snapping all these pictures. It wasn't until she had caught the last picture - the one where Archie punches Jughead - did she reach out for both you and Betty. You recall the moment you saw her take it off from her neck, too. And you almost can't believe how crafty this girl is. You smile because that whole thing was pretty slick, even for a Serpent.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." Jughead is back to whispering again. After placing a small but lingering kiss on your lips, he adds, "I promise I'll do better at protecting you."

Toni reaches out and pulls Sweet Pea by the wrist, saying, "I think we should give these two some time alone."

Once the door closes, Jughead reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back behind your ear. And you reach out to cup his jaw in your hands, running both of your thumbs across the various bruises of each cheek.

"I think you did more than enough, Juggie," you whisper, adopting his tone in the moment. "I know you'll never fail me. It's not your fault your ex-girlfriend is crazy."

Jughead laughs but it quickly fades and he's staring at you with a serious expression. You feel a little awkward - uncomfortable, even - and you shift in his lap.

"Why are you staring at me?" you ask, laughing nervously.

"Because I feel like she's finally out of the picture," responds Jughead. "Like, I really, really feel like after I slip those pictures into the Cooper mailbox, that will be that."

"What about Archie?"

"Fuck 'em. If she was so hellbent on accusing me of something, it's because she felt guilty of it, too. Betty's a person who always tries to see the best in people. So it's a little out of character for her to be so..." Jughead's voice trails off and he sighs. "You know what? It doesn't even matter."

Jughead pushes you back so that you're laying on the sofa and no longer sitting in his lap. Instead of being on top of him, you're now under him, his knees between yours as he leans down to kiss you again.

"Give me something else to think about," he tells you.

Tagsies: @fangirlswizardwheezes @im-not-demonic-im-a-winchester @unaveragewriterfreak @murderyoursoul @brokenh4art @hufflepuff-and-feminist @highlyintelligentblonde @trumpettay @raptornsain

[jugheadangst]

Until It Sticks [part 5/6]

[ part 1 // part 4 // part 6 ]

Pairing: Jughead x Serpent!Reader

Word count: 1,556

Summary: Since Jughead’s arrival at Southside high school, you’ve been supportive in ways that Betty has failed to be. It makes him realize who he should really be in a relationship with. But just how well will that sit with his Northside friends?

Warnings: swearing

A/N: so pretty much whenever I write a chapter, I ask myself one question - “How can I make this as dramatic as possible?”

"Miss me already?" Y/N greets with a wide smile when she opens the door.

"We need to talk," Jughead mutters as he allows himself in without necessarily being invited. His heart aches when he sees how quickly Y/N's expression changes to his tone and he immediately apologizes. She's probably thinking the worst right now because if it was her saying such a thing, he would certainly assume so.

"It's nothing bad, I promise." And he begins to retell the morning's events from the moment he woke up to where they both stand now. Jughead places another apology at the end of his explanation and tells his girlfriend how he hopes that she can forgive him.

"I wish you would have been honest with me from the beginning," she admits. "If you hadn't come over here to tell me right away and I would have found out later on from someone else..." Her voice trails off for a moment until she finds her words. "I'd be devastated, honestly."

"I know," he says. "And that's why I wanted to tell you as soon as I left."

"Thank you."

Jughead steps forward and reaches out for Y/N, pulling her into a hug and whispering against her neck, "I always want to be honest with you. I'd never blatantly tell you lies but I also don't want to be even slightly deceitful, either."

"I trust you, Juggie."

Hearing that means the world to him. Because for most of his life he's found it really difficult to trust anyone - even the people he should be able to trust. So for someone to say that they trust him, it's really special. That someone would feel towards him what he struggles to feel towards others. But he trusts her, too. And he tells her that.

Still held together in what is growing to be one of their ever frequent embraces, Jughead laughs against his girlfriend's skin and says, "I don't want to go."

"You don't have to," she tells him. "You just got here. Stick around. You're not the only one who has food and movies, you know?"

He hums in response, smiling.

"Sure, but...let's do what you want to do for once. Or at least watch whatever it is you like best."

The rest of the day is spent with Y/N and Jughead is more than satisfied with the amount of time they're spending together as well as how good they get along. It's all smiles and laughs and sweet nothings. There's never a tense of awkward moment. When he's with Y/N, he doesn't feel like he's walking on eggshells - too scared of saying something that might offend or worry her. Not like he had to do with Betty. And although Jughead had felt this way with Betty to a certain extent, he feels that way with Y/N and multitudes more. It's like an improved version of what he had already imagined love to be like.

At one point he does have to leave, however. She tells him that it is a school night and she'd like to get some rest. And he tells her that he doesn't know how she's going to sleep now without him by her side and she laughs, saying that she'll manage. She's done it before, after all.

When Jughead leaves his girlfriend's and starts heading home, he feels pretty okay. For the most part. This weekend has been an up and down whirlwind of emotions similar to how the past two weeks have been altogether. But he's hoping that maybe after having spent yet another consecutive afternoon with his girlfriend, he could pass into the fresh week on a good note.

But that note turns ever sour when he arrives home and sees that he has a visitor waiting for him on the steps to his trailer.

"Betty, what are you doing here?"

She's hunched over and hugging herself, rocking back and forth. When she hears Jughead's voice, though, she raises her head and she looks like an absolute wreck, if he's totally honest.

"Well, now I know the reason why you don't want to work things out."

Genuinely confused, he asks, "What are you talking about?"

"I know about your new girlfriend, Jughead," Betty says. Her voice is thick like she had been crying for god knows how long. He certainly couldn't know for sure how long she had been out here waiting.

"How?" He doesn't even feel guilty for choosing not to tell her. In his opinion, it isn't up to him to be totally transparent with Betty anymore. And the intimate details of his life are no longer her business. So it's not as if he was lying. Rather, keeping a private life just that. Private.

"After you left, obviously I was upset, so I asked Archie if he wanted to go for milkshakes at Pop's." But of course she called Archie. He was likely the one she turned to whenever her and Jughead fought in general. "I needed someone to talk to. And I needed some cheering up."

Jughead's trying to put the pieces together until suddenly it all clicks into place. He never took down the decorations after his date night with Y/N. And it's likely Pop hadn't bothered, either. But how could she have known what those decorations were for, anyway?

"When we walked in, I saw the pretty little booth in the corner. Of course I wanted to sit there. Archie asked Pop if someone was having a birthday or a party of some sort. And that's when he told us that you had decorated that booth. For your new girlfriend."

It wasn't Pop's fault. He never told the old man to keep things quiet. And Betty could have come in at any point yesterday either while he was decorating or throughout the time Y/N and him had been on the date. Jughead gotten lucky. But that luck had run out today.

"You can't even imagine how I feel right now," Betty continues. "To know that you've had a girlfriend this whole time. This whole time when I thought we were still together."

For the first time since Betty began explaining how she found out about his girlfriend, Jughead speaks up.

"Not this whole time," Jughead corrects. "Her and I literally only made things official last night."

"Made it official," repeats Betty. "That kind of makes it sound like something had been going on before last night, then. And who knows? There could have been something going on long before you even suggested that we break up. Maybe that's why things started falling apart to begin with."

Jughead can't even believe what Betty is suggesting.

"I haven't been cheating, if that's what you're trying to say."

"That's not what I'm trying to say at all. I know you're not that kind of guy. But what I don't know is if after transferring to Southside high school, you might have found someone else and started developing feelings for them. And maybe you started liking them more than me. And..." She sighs. Her hands are balled into fists again - just like they had been earlier that morning when they had an equally tense and frustrating conversation. "You've been short with me. You've been losing patience. You're quicker to yell than you are to just talk things out."

"And you're quick to tell me to fuck off than you are to even sit in the same room with me!" Jughead yells this, only proving her previous statement. But he hardly cares. He can point fingers too.

"For your information, Betty," he practically spits out her name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "The reason why I suggested breaking up was because you haven't been supporting me at all. You don't agree with my choices. You don't think I know what's best for my own damn self. You don't even think I can take care of myself. You're a mirror image of your mother."

"Don't say that." Betty's bottom lip is quivering. "Don't ever compare me to her."

"The resemblance is striking."

Betty begins to cry, smudging her already messy makeup even more. This time, though, Jughead doesn't feel hurt. He doesn't feel guilt. He doesn't feel anything at all. Perhaps contempt. But not much else. Earlier this morning Jughead might have an ache in his heart for his ex-girlfriend but that was before she all but accused him of cheating. Or - in her words - not cheating but rather developing feelings for someone else before they even broke up.

"I think it's time for you to go home," Jughead tells Betty. "It's your turn to be told to fuck off for once."

There's hardly enough room on the stairs for him to get up to the trailer door with Betty sitting on them but he manages. Just for good measure, Jughead slams the door behind him. And he isn't sure how long she remains out there before she finally leaves. He just knows she had to leave at some point because he peeks out the window before he goes to bed and she's gone.

Jughead really believes that that's the last he'll be seeing of Betty. At least for awhile. At least until things cool down. But things were only just beginning to heat up.

Tagsies: @unaveragewriterfreak @castiel-123 @brokenh4art @fangirlswizardwheezes @im-not-demonic-im-a-winchester @murderyoursoul @hufflepuff-and-feminist @highlyintelligentblonde @trumpettay

Message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[jugheadangst]

i have this anoying habit of ignoring my activity / notifications page completely so if there’s something you want to say and want me to actually see it, feel free to message me. IM or inbox is fine. if you inbox me, I generally answer privately unless it’s anon (ofc)

but ye little fyi i never intentionally try to ignore anyone specifically it’s just I don’t often check ;~;

[jugheadangst]

Until It Sticks [part 4/6]

[ part 1 // part 3 ]

Pairing: Jughead x Serpent!Reader

Word count: 1,506

Warnings: swearing

A/N: like an asshole I just realized I haven’t been linking to any of the previous chapters lmao sorry ;~;

The morning following his date night with Y/N, Jughead wakes up to a text from Betty. Drowsy, he almost didn't catch who it was from but after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw the name crystal clear.

"Do you think we could meet up sometime today?"

What a loaded question.

Looking between his phone and his now girlfriend laying in his bed, still asleep, he tries to think of a response. Eventually he settles on one. Simple as it may be.

"Why?"

He tosses the phone onto the table next to the bed and settles back underneath the covers. Jughead is just about ready to roll over and take Y/N into his arms for some early morning cuddles but he sees his phone light up. It's Betty with a quick response.

"I need to talk about what happened."

Anger flares up within Jughead and he has an urge to throw his phone. Now she wants to talk? She had two weeks to send these texts but she didn't. She hasn't said anything to him at all. His own friends haven't even texted him. He's been pretty much isolated since their breakup - unofficial as it had been. They technically never stated in words that they were no longer together but by Jughead's suggestion and her demand for him to leave, he figured it to be pretty much set in stone.

Jughead drops his phone and rolls over to do precisely what he had intended to do to begin with. Slipping one arm underneath Y/N's body and wrapping his other one around her waist, he pulls her close and hugs her tightly. She stirs and lets out a small sigh, nuzzling her body as close to him as possible. She slips one hand so that it rests on his own and he's happy for a split moment. It's short-lived, however, because he's thinking about Betty and the texts. He knows he can't just ignore it. He's not that kind of guy. Betty might run away from things and pretend it's all okay but Jughead can't just fake it. He wears his heart on his sleeve and although that gets him into trouble sometimes, at least he's always been true to himself. He's not entirely sure Betty knows what it means to be true to herself - always putting everyone else's thoughts and feelings above her own. And expecting others - him, especially - to do the same. It's in this way that they were so incompatible and had constant clashes. Call it irreconcilable differences.

Because of his compulsive need to take care of anything that would otherwise nag at his thoughts, Jughead leaves the trailer soon after Y/N does. He sends her off with a hug and a kiss, telling her how nice of a time he had last night and how happy he is to be her boyfriend meanwhile feeling stings of guilt for not also telling her what he'll be doing later on after. To him, it's not a big deal. That's what he's telling himself. And yet his consciousness is probing him with the question that if it really isn't that big of a deal then why doesn't he tell his new girlfriend his intentions? He pushes this thought away, however, as he pulls on his Serpents jacket and heads on out as soon as he's sure Y/N is far away from where she might see him heading towards Riverdale's northern parts.

Betty tries to pull Jughead into a hug the moment she opens the door to her house but he shrugs her off and waits to be invited in. When she begins walking up the stairs to her bedroom, he remains in place with his feet firmly rooted to the threshold of the house.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"We don't need to go upstairs to talk," Jughead answers. "We can do it right here."

She's a little put off by his insistence but she complies. Standing at the foot of the stairs, she wrings her hands and doesn't make eye contact. It isn't until Jughead prompts her with a "Well?" does she speak up.

"I just wanted to apologize," she finally says. "I'm sorry for telling you to leave and I'm sorry for ignoring you and, most of all, I'm sorry for being so awful to you. I don't want this to come between us." She shifts her eyes from the floor to Jughead and tries to hold his gaze. "Are we okay?"

Scoffing, Jughead tells her that, no, they aren't okay.

"There is no we. There is no us. We broke up, remember?"

Betty's mouth drops open and she looks both hurt and confused.

"No, I don't remember," she responds. "Neither of us-"

"So it wasn't stated officially but it was suggested. And that's close enough for me."

"I don't understand." Betty isn't looking at him anymore and her hands have moved from wringing in front of her to balled into fists by her sides. "Does this mean..." She doesn't even try to hold back her tears. She was never good at holding back her emotions - even when she tried her best to fake it for those around her. "We're not together anymore?"

Jughead's heart is breaking all over again. It's like the wounds that had scabbed over the past few weeks have been ripped open and torn into deeper than before. He's still hurt about what happened. He'll be hurt for a long time. And he still cares for Betty - of course he does - but she didn't care for him in the way that he needed to be cared for. She cared for him in the only way she knew how to and that was how her mother tried to care for her. That's not the kind of care he's looking for.

"No," he finally says. "We're not."

"But can't we work this out?" She inhales a deep breath but the exhale comes out like a sob. "Let's take a break. Let's take some time away from each other and then when we both feel okay again, we can work it out."

"That can't happen."

"Why not?" Her voice is broken and her tone sounds as like she's begging. Begging for a solution, a way out, a means of fixing things.

He wants to tell her. He wishes he could spit out the words. Explain to her that he's with someone else now, someone he feels confident can care for him and love him in the ways that he needs - ways that she never could. Even ways that she never really even attempted. But Jughead can't get it out. He can't do that to Betty. Just like Y/N doesn't need to know he's there at his ex-girlfriend's house, his ex-girlfriend doesn't need to know about his new girlfriend. Not just yet. He can't imagine how that would make Betty feel - never mind how that would reflect on him. Dread sinks into his stomach when he thinks about the backlash he would face from his friends. All of this makes him wonder if maybe things with Y/N was happening too soon. If the time isn't really truly right at all like the two of them initially thought.

Not wanting to lie to her or deceive her in any way, he finally settles on telling her something that is true.

"I just don't think we're a good match."

"Then why did we get together in the first place?"

"Because at the time it seemed like a good idea."

Sniffing loudly and wiping at her eyes, Betty mutters, "I shouldn't have texted you. I was better off keeping myself away from you."

"At least you know we're not together now. Because the way you made it sound, this whole time you thought we were still a couple."

"I'm going to tell you this for the very last time, Jughead." All traces of tears and sadness are gone from her voice. Her tone is uncharacteristically dull and cold. "Leave."

And just like weeks before, Jughead doesn't have to be told twice. He doesn't have to be let out the door. He does this himself once again and doesn't look back this time, either. As he walks away from his ex-girlfriend's house, the hurt he had been feeling previously is gone and is being replaced with irritation that's quickly beginning to flare up into anger.

He's angry for a handful of reasons but most of those reasons have to with himself and not Betty. It had been a waste of time to respond to her text and actually drop in to see her but he didn't have to. Jughead actively chose to. He's angry over his choices of texting back, going ot his ex-girlfriend's house, and especially angry at himself for not telling Y/N any of this. That's when he resolved to make another choice - this one to hopefully redeem his previous ones.

Jughead's going to go Y/N's house and tell her what just happened.

Tagsies: @unaveragewriterfreak @castiel-123 @brokenh4art @murderyoursoul @fangirlswizardwheezes @im-not-demonic-im-a-winchester @hufflepuff-and-feminist @highlyintelligentblonde

Message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[jugheadangst]

it might seem a little silly that I put down “swearing” as a warning but I know there are some people who just don’t feel comfortable with vulgarity and hey I can respect that

[jugheadangst]

UNTIL IT STICKS IS SO GOOD O O F

THANK YOU SO MUCH

im actually really happy with how it’s coming along so far n_n

[jugheadangst]

Until It Sticks [part 3/6]

[ part 1 // part 2 // part 4 ]

Pairing: Jughead x Serpent!Reader

Word count: 2,581

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Since Jughead’s arrival at Southside high school, you’ve been supportive in ways that Betty has failed to be. It makes him realize who he should really be in a relationship with. But just how well will that sit with his Northside friends?

A/N: u know how this works. you cant have this much fluff without something tragic happening, lmao. try and find the precise point where it’s foreshadowed \o/ ((besides the title of this series should have been a dead giveaway from the start))

This week had been better than the last by a long shot. Jughead wasn't avoiding you, he wasn't walking out on you, and he wasn't ignoring you. It seemed as if he was more or less back to being his self again with his usual amount of broodiness. There were moments when you caught him staring at a wall with an expression you couldn't quite read but if you reached out and placed your hand on his, he was quick to look over and offer a small smile - which you returned.

Things were going pretty well. And now it's Friday. The two of you are sitting together in his room, watching his favorite films, eating his favorite foods. You weren't picky about the food or films either way. As long as you were spending time with him.

His laughter and over-exaggerated reactions to whatever's happening on screen eventually go quiet, however. Although his gaze is focused on the screen, his thoughts and attention appear to be elsewhere.

"Juggie?" you say softly. "Are you okay?"

Looking over at you and responding in a voice just as soft, he asks, "Is it time yet?"

"Time for what?" You're genuinely confused.

"The right time," he clarifies.

It's when he says this that you immediately understand what he's trying to get at. He's referring to the conversation you had right about this time last week when, in his vulnerability, he tried to kiss you but you didn't want to take advantage of his sad state. But he's been pretty okay this week. You wonder if it could be the right time. If it's the right choice.

"Do you think it's the right time?" you ask.

"I thought it was the right time last week but you insisted on waiting. So I guess...it's up to you, really."

You smile and bump your shoulders into his. Of all the movies and books he's read, romance still isn't his strength.

"Aren't you going to take me on a date first?"

Jughead's brow furrows and then his mouth drops open.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He looks disappointed with himself. "I'm so sorry." He's apologizing profusely and you can't quite figure out why. Until he says, "You deserve to be treated to the full package. A romantic night out, an equally romantic night in, and a more thought out proposal."

"It was just a joke," you tell him. "But if you're so committed to the cause then maybe I'll let you carry it out." You kind of like the idea of Jughead putting as much thought and attention into you as he does into, say, his writing - his second greatest love. You'd like to be the first.

"Tomorrow, then? I'll pick you up and everything."

You won't admit it to him but you can feel it - your heart skipping beats in your chest. Pounding against the bones the occasional time it doesn't remember to pump blood through your body.

"That sounds great, Juggie. I can't wait."

He sends you off back to your house earlier than usual tonight. He says he wants to "prepare" for tomorrow. And you want to call him silly for being so passionate about the date but you don't want to discourage him. The truth is that you've never really had anyone so committed to making you happy and Jughead is a genuine guy. You know if he's trying this hard it's because he truly means it. He's not trying to fake anything for any ulterior motive or reason. You're curious to see what he comes up with that would require so much planning and prep.

Jughead can honestly admit to himself that he had never done anything like this for Betty. Everything had always been spur of the moment with her. He had never planned or prepared for anything. But, then again, she never told him she wanted that. She had never said to him, "Hey, Jughead, I want a romantic date; sweep me off my feet." Honestly, if she had ever said that, he would have done it for her. But now he's doing it for Y/N, instead, because she's the one who spoke up and asked for it. So that's what he's going to give her.

He decided to ditch the rag of a shirt and lined jacket he usually wears for something a little nicer - the suit he had worn to Jason's funeral. Macabre, maybe, but he didn't own a very extensive wardrobe of black tie attire. This would have to do.

Arrangements with Pop were made earlier that day. Jughead asked the older man if he could borrow the kitchen. When asked, "Now why in the hell would you need to do that?" Jughead explained his intentions. It made the old man smile and he was granted permission to use whatever it was he needed. Do to the diner whatever he wanted.

"Do what you gotta' do to make that girl smile," Pop told Jughead. "And don't let any other man make her smile the way you can."

That statement hit a little bit of a sore spot in him. Because although he was friends with both Archie and Betty, Jughead knows that Archie can make her smile exactly the way Jughead can. And Archie can connect with Betty in a way that Jughead could never - based entirely on the reason that they grew up together. They've shared a huge chunk of intimate and awkward phases of growing pains and developmental periods that Jughead could never emulate.

Y/N is a fresh start. And it helps that he doesn't have any competition. Petty as it might sound, Jughead can be jealous sometimes. His entire life all he's ever wanted was something truly of his own and he'd rather not share something as special and intimate as the attention and affections of his girlfriend.

After getting permission from Pop, Jughead gets to work. He picks a corner of the diner and places a large but rather messy looking RESERVED sign on the table. From that moment he spends the rest of the afternoon scouring dollar stores and craft shops, looking for anything with flowers and hearts on them, really. Anything his adolescent mind told him that girls might like. Not as if he'd truly know anything about that - his own father failed in the romance department, too - but at least he was trying. As he was in the process of decorating, Jughead prayed to any and all powers that be for a Serpent not to walk in and see what he was doing. It wasn't too often that Serpents dropped in at Pop's - unless it was related to business - but Southside was still part of Riverdale and everyone at Riverdale loved a good milkshake every now and then. It's just that the gang was similar to a high school in the sense that gossip spread like wildfire and he didn't want Y/N to catch even a whisper of what he was up to. Luckily, however, it was a fairly quiet afternoon where gang activity was concerned and he managed to decorate the booth more or less without any bumps - or bruises, the few times he slipped and fell off the table or bench.

When it was all said and done, Jughead barely had enough time to find recipes and write a little something for Y/N. By the time all this was wrapped up, he had to rush back to the trailer, haphazardly throw on his clothes, and rush even faster to get to Y/N's home in time to arrive when he said he would.

As he's walking up to the door, he stops in his tracks and begins muttering to himself.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Jughead had wanted to bring flowers. But he forgot to pick up flowers. He wants to throw in his signature hat and go home, giving up over the one stupid mistake he made, but he thinks about all the effort he's putting into other details of this date and thinks that maybe Y/N will forgive the lack of flowers. There will be plenty strung up in their booth to make up for it, anyway.

Y/N's mouth drops open when she answers the door. She's looking Jughead up and down and then she shakes her head.

"Now I feel under-dressed." Looking from Jughead to the interior of her home, she says, "I'm going to go change."

Jughead catches her wrist before she can close the door. She's dressed nice and she did something special with her hair - it isn't her fault that the only thing Jughead has that would be considered appropriate for a date was this suit.

"I think you look beautiful." Wrist still in his hand, Jughead pulls her closer and kisses her gently on the cheek. A blush rushes across her skin almost immediately.

"So what's the plan, Juggie?"

"It's a surprise."

He knew that a date at Pop's would be the obvious choice. That why Jughead did his best to present the evening's activities in a way that wouldn't be as predictable. And it works. The moment the two walk through the door and Jughead points to the corner that they will be eating at, Y/N's mouth drops open and her eyes start looking a little misty.

"You didn't have to do all that," she tells him.

"But I wanted to. You mentioned you'd like a date and I'm giving you one that I think you deserve."

That last statement is especially important. Because Jughead knows people go on dates all the time. Low-effort ones more often than not. Jughead wants to show Y/N just how special she really is. He wants to give her something that not only she but other girls have never really had before.

Giving her a little push on her back, Jughead urges her in the direction of the booth, saying, "Go settle in. I'm going to go cook our dinner."

"Cook our dinner? Isn't Pop going to do that?"

"I want to do it." Jughead smiles. "It's part of package."

Everything Jughead had planned for Pop's could have been done in his own home, certainly, but the amount of cleaning it would take to make the trailer date night-appropriate would have taken the entire weekend. And besides - here at Pop's, the other patrons could see how much of a princess Y/N is when they see how out of the way Jughead is going to make her happy. Although Jughead prefers private affairs himself, tonight isn't about him. It's about her.

Occasionally throughout cooking dinner, Jughead pops into the booth to check on Y/N and every time he apologizes for ditching out on her like this. And every time Y/N insists that it's okay. Because a dinner cooked by him will be extra special. It'll be worth it.

When Jughead finally brings out the finished meal, Y/N is shocked.

"How did you know this was my favorite food?" She quickly snatches up the silverware the moment the dish is placed in front of her.

"I pay attention to what you say," Jughead tells her. "I listen." But the truth is that he had no idea what her favorite food was. In typical Jughead fashion, he just got lucky.

The conversations over the meal pass from one topic to another. For the most part, it's exactly the way every meal spent with Y/N usually is - talking about anything and everything with the occasional mention of how good the food tastes and how well-decorated the booth is. The only real romantic topic of conversation is when Jughead pushes the poem he wrote across the booth and, again, Y/N's eyes mist a little bit at the corners. The intention is for Jughead to save all his sappy talk for when they leave Pop's and go back to his house. Which they do some time later.

Similar to last week's evening, Jughead offers you some clothes of his that you can wear and he changes into something a little more comfortable and a lot more like himself, too. Unlike last night, however, he doesn't click on the television or try to put on a movie. Instead, lays on the bed and stretches out his arms, beckoning for you to lay with him. Your heart skips a few beats - like it always does when you're with Jughead - and your stomach tosses and turns into knots of nervousness.

Once settled into Jughead's arms, he kisses the top of your head and leaves his lips buried in your hair for a long moment before asking, "Did you have a nice time?"

The truth is that Jughead went above and beyond what you were expecting. You would have been happy with a date night similar to what had happened the evening before - food and films. But you expected Jughead would take you out to Pop's. What you didn't expect was everything else. No one has ever gone out of their way for you the way Jughead has and it makes your heart ache. It's so full of affection and appreciation for the boy and yet it's breaking here and there, too. Because you would hate to lose such a special guy who does these special things for you. It almost makes you reluctant to get too close. This is all you've wanted from him and more and yet, now that it's right in front of you, you want to slink back and run away.

It's all so scary. Things are just as easy to lose as they are to attain. And if things ever ended poorly between you two, you don't think you'd be able to handle it as well as Jughead has. Even if he's been a bit of a mess himself.

You share most of this thought process with Jughead - leaving out the vulnerable bits and not mentioning how you're a little scared of what might happen next.

"So I fulfilled your date night hopes and dreams?"

"A million times over."

Jughead is nuzzling your hair with his nose still and you both hear and feel him take a deep inhale before shakily letting it out. He holds you a little tighter in his arms and asks, "Does that mean you'll be my girlfriend?"

You smile and think to yourself how you would have been his girlfriend whether he had took you out on a date or not. It was just a nice gesture.

"Yes, Juggie," you tell him. "I'll be your girlfriend."

"And does that mean..."

Jughead's voice trails off and before you can ask him what he's trying to say, he's closing the space between you two and pressing his lips softly against yours. Initially you freeze, surprised, but after settling back into his arms, you kiss him back.

When he breaks away, Jughead whispers, "Does this mean I get to kiss you whenever I want?"

You laugh and nod. "Yes, Juggie. It does."

The rest of the night is spend cuddling and kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Until Jughead falls asleep, at least. And you're left awake with a head spinning full of thoughts of affection. But there are other thoughts, too. Uneasy ones. Something's off. It just doesn't feel right - even though you both waited for what you both agreed to be the "right" time. Because it's all falling into place a little too smoothly. This can't possibly last forever.

Tagsies: @unaveragewriterfreak @castiel-123 @murderyoursoul @fangirlswizardwheezes @im-not-demonic-im-a-winchester @ brokenh4art 

Message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[jugheadangst]

Masterlist || Jughead x Reader

I’ll be updating this list as I post new fics - so feel free to bookmark! The first chapter to each fic is linked in its title.

Series

You’re Not Alone

Through Archie’s window, within the neighbor’s house next door, Jughead sees a girl and half her face is busted and bruised. Motivated by his ever bleeding heart, he tries to help her.

Until It Sticks

Since Jughead’s arrival at Southside high school, you’ve been supportive in ways that Betty has failed to be. It makes him realize who he should really be in a relationship with. But just how well will that sit with his Northside friends?

Happy Ending

Washed up and worn out, a significantly older Jughead revisits Riverdale after having left it some 15 years ago. He’s back to find what’s been missing this whole time.

The Fountainhead

Late night writing sessions at Pop’s. You don’t quite catch Jughead’s name but what does it matter? Your broodiness ruins an opportunity at befriending him.

Oneshots

Shots, Shots, Shots

A drinking game with a twist - every time you and Jughead take a shot, you each have to share a secret.

Compromise

You refuse to go to school until Jughead lets you stay with him - wherever that may be.

Don’t Play with Ouija Boards

Jughead finds a gem in a pile of old junk. The possibilities of things going very wrong frighten you, but he promises to protect you.

Wine Snob

An AU where Jughead has been living with his mother this whole time but is now visiting his father over the summer during his break from college. He hit it off with Betty but it is you, the reader, the ends up stealing his heart in the end. Considering the nature of this fic, obviously the characters are over 21.

You, His Muse

Jughead’s at his private school. You show up and surprise him. He surprises you with, uh, his ... well, you know.