Sketch || Jughead Jones
Request from @carmineofmidgard: Hey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.
A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!
Gif by @juptern
“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh
Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.
You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,
“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”
Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.
“Give it back, Reggie!”
Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.
“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”
Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.
Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.
“You want the usual?”
You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.
“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.
You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.
“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.
Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.
“Can I sit?”
You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.
“How did you know where I was?”
You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.
“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”
Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.
“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”
You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.
“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”
You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.
“They’re really good,” Jughead said.
You looked up at him inquisitively.
“Your sketches I mean.”
Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”
You were silent as you waited for his response.
“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”
He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.
“Can I buy you another milkshake?”
“I’d like that.”
A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!