About You - Jughead Jones

Jughead x reader where they have a fight?

I didn’t know what type of fight you wanted so, it turned into fluff because I’m total and utter trash! It has a bad ending but that’s because I never wanted it to end. I hope you like it!

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

You got the text from Jughead around 4pm, that said to come over to his house. You almost didn’t go, due to the amount of homework you had, but at 4:18 pm you were already in his driveway. His parents weren’t home, as usual, so you just walked into the house.

“Jughead? What’s wrong?” You shouted, wandering around the house looking for your friend. You walked up the carpeted staircase and turned left into his room. There you saw him, sprawled out on the floor with his back leaning against the side of his bed. The cuts and bruises on his arms and face looked fresh and he seemed like he was in pain. You rushed over and crouched next to him, you leaned over grabbing his face carefully in your hands.

“Jug, what happened?” You asked, he turned his face in your hands so he could look you in the eyes, but he didn’t speak. His blue eyes were unreadable as he took in your features. “Was it Reggie?” You asked, but he still didn’t reply. He just closed his eyes and leaned his face against your palm. You slowly got up, “I’ll grab some meds.” You exited his room and into the bathroom. There you opened a cabinet and grabbed some pain killers and hydrogen peroxide for his cuts.

When you returned to his room, Jughead was trying to get up to do who knows what. You set the medicine down on his dresser and put your hands on your hips. He almost didn’t notice the look you were giving him, until you cleared your throat. His eyes landed on you, and despite the pain, he gave you a little smile. “You look cute when you’re pissed off.” If it wasn’t for the situation, you might’ve blushed harder, but you just looked at him. “Sit down, Jug.”

“I have to type. Just really quick.” He said as his limped over to his desk. It looked like he would fall at any second, so you walked over and guided him to his bed. “You can type later. But for now,” you said sitting him on his bed, “just sit.” He listened and didn’t move as you pressed a rag soaked in the peroxide to his cuts. He let out small hisses of pain to which you muttered ‘sorry.’ You weren’t sorry though, not really. He had been getting into fights whenever he could and you were tired of playing nurse with him afterwards. So after you had cleaned his cuts and made him down a few pain killers, you let him have it.

“This fighting with people needs to end! I’m tired of seeing you beat up like this.” You yelled, throwing your hands in the air. “You don’t understand, I did it for-”

“Your novel; I know, but that doesn’t justify it Jug!” You said, interrupting him. He looked up at you from his spot on his bed, blue eyes watching you intensely while you shouted at him. “What ever they said they said about your novel or you shouldn’t provoke you like this! Normally you wouldn’t even care so what-” He was on his feet now, a mere inches away from you. You became silent at the sudden closeness. “They weren’t bashing on me, Y/N.” His voice was in a deep whisper as he spoke, “They were saying ugly, horrible things about you and I wouldn’t have that. You out of all people, do not deserve that.” Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his waist and drew him into a hug. He had to lean down to hug you properly, but he couldn’t have cared less. You felt tears behind your eyes, but fought them back. You managed to choke out, “I’m sorry, Jug,” and you meant it this time.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he whispered, “it’s okay that you got mad at me. I was mad at me.” He pulled back slightly and gestured to his face, “Like, I’m really bad at fighting, I was pissed I couldn’t defend you.” You let out a laugh and the tears you had been holding back fell onto your cheeks. He brushed them away the moment he saw them and fought the urge to kiss them away. You leaned in again, for another hug, and placed your head on his chest. His hand stroked your back soothingly and you were amazed by what a great friend he was to you. His ‘I-don’t-care’ attitude could be overwritten, just for you. That thought alone made you dangerously hopeful he liked you back. It stayed quiet a few moments longer, until you spoke up again. “Promise you won’t fight anymore?” You looked up at Jughead, and from this angle it looked like he was tired. “I can’t promise that Y/N, not if they keep making fun of you.” You swallowed hard at his words and thought about what to say next. You didn’t have to say anything though; Jughead was finished waiting and pushing his true feelings back. “It’s because I love you, that I can’t promise.” He whispered. You pulled back only enough to see his face, and saw the weight of his words in his eyes. Your lips curved into a smile and heat nipped at your cheeks.

“I love you too, Jug.” A small, but true smile crept it’s way to his lips. His hand came up to your jaw, then your cheek, resting it there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When do you have to go home?” He whispered, walking backwards and pulling you along with him. “Not for a while.” You murmured and Jughead nodded at he pulled you down to lay on his bed next to him. You smiled at him before carefully taking his hat off his head and running your fingers through his dark, thick hair. He closed his eyes and laid more comfortably beside you. He put one of his arms around your waist, pulling your side closer to his chest. You smiled at his actions and continued to play with his hair. “I’m crazy about you.” He murmured, kissing your cheek lazily. You let out a small laugh and watched as he fell asleep.  


Jughead X Reader

Wordcount: 1,888 

Request:  Bit of a different request, but could you do something where Jughead is helping the reader recover from past substance abuse and addiction?

Warnings: Mentions on substance abuse, swearing, angst 

A/N: This issue is very personal to home with me, that’s why I’m writing it. Last year I lost a friend due to substance abuse, and many of my friends take drugs recreationally and have become addicted, so I’ve dealt with addiction first-handedly. I’ve seen the way this has affected them and it’s not a pretty sight. There is plenty of support out there if anyone ever needs to speak to someone about substance abuse. My inbox is always open if anyone wants a chat…Even if it isn’t about substance abuse. 

Keep reading


Spouts seem so simple after seeing this.

From @hamramics - I love this part-when you’ve made the pitcher/jug and get to squeeze the lip to make a spout. Suddenly they transform from being just a shape to having a face and a personality.

#potterymaking #pottery #ceramics #wip #handmade #art #craft #wheelthrown #wheelthrowing #pitcher #jug #spout #cerámica #cerâmica #poterie #céramique #ceramica #керамика #кераміка #seramikler #keraamika #kulolchilik #seramik #instapottery #potteryvideo #potteryvideos

Made with Instagram

Word Count: 614  
Requested?: No    

       "I’m sorry.” He said, not seeming to actually mean the words but he felt as if he had to say them. “But… you said that you loved me.” She said with tears streaming down her cheeks, wondering why the boy she loved would do this to her. She loved him, and she thought he loved her back. She could have sworn he loved her. 

      “What can I say? I never actually loved you, it’s always been her.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Who is she, Jug?” She asked not wanting to know but had an inkling as to whom. He hesitated for just moment, “Betty.

      She knew it, she just knew that it was her. Y/N’s heart broke even more, if that was even possible. Y/N stumbled back a little. “I’m-” he started. “Don’t say anything.” She choked on her breath and couldn’t seem to find her breath. 

Keep reading

The Shape of You

Jughead Jones x Reader

You’re new in town and Jughead takes a liking to you, based on the song Shape of You by Ed Sheeran.

Warnings: there’s some kissing and party dancing, alluding to something more

Word count: 1,602

A/N: This is my first fan fiction in this universe and also my first post on this blog, but I hope you enjoy none the less! I mean if you really want I guess you can request, send me ideas pls. 

the club isn’t the best place to find a lover

so the bar is where I go

It’s just like your parents to pick up and move schools with little to no notice, and of course they didn’t ask for your opinion on anything. It’s not like you’re actually important, right? You’ve become emotional baggage to your parents, or at least that’s what it feels like. They do business wherever they please, and you have to follow.

Their next destination: Riverdale. The school is okay, the town a bit too small, and the people sometimes seem like something out of the lingerie ad in a magazine, like they’re too perfect to actually be real. 

The only place that didn’t seem like a total drag to you was the local cafe that was open 24 hours. You often went there to study or people watch, and today started just like that.

You walked in and ordered a milkshake and sat in a booth by the door. You notice a boy sitting a few booths over, alone, buried in his laptop. You watch him for a few minutes, noticing the way his hands flutter over the keyboard and the crease in his eyebrow every thirty seconds or so. His eyes are glued to the screen, like he was on the verge of something great.  

Hopping from school to school, you have to learn to make friends quickly, so your confidence in approaching people may seem a bit forward. You told yourself it was better than not having any friends at all. 

You take a deep breath and decide that this time, friendship will start with this guy. 

“What are you writing? A Sherlock Holmes novel?” You ask from your seat.

“Close.” he says without looking up.

You slip out of your booth and slide into the side of the booth opposite of him.

“I’m interested.” you say, looking at him with a smirk, you weren’t going to give up so easily now.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” he asks, looking up. You finally get a look at his eyes, and it’s too bad that he’s so focused on the screen, because the world is definitely missing out.

“I’m (Y/N).” you say, taking a a sip of your milkshake.

“Jughead.” he replies, raising an eyebrow. 

one week in, we let the story begin

we’re going out on our first date

Just one week in Riverdale and Jughead Jones had swept you off your feet faster than your head had time to catch up with your heart. You’ve been meeting at Pop’s with him every single day after school, talking about his novel, the town, or nothing at all. He’s filled you in on the past summer, and what’s happened since then, always lighting up when he talks about it. You can only guess that it’s because it’s the topic of his novel.

You could never read his face any other time, though, he was so caught up in looking at the world so differently. Everyone else was almost certain he liked you, as they all insisted this is the happiest they had ever seen him.

“Not possible. That boy couldn’t like anything except food if he wanted to.” you told the rest of the friends you had met, who also happened to be part of Jug’s main friend group.

Veronica was sitting across from you with Betty by her side, both looking at you as if you had something in your teeth. 

“Oh come on, it’s written all over his face, and all over yours too.” Betty chimed in, linking her arm with Ronnie’s.

Before you have time to say anything there’s a ding at the front door, you turn to see who it is and surprise, it’s no one else other than…

“Hey Jughead.” Betty says, motioning for him to come sit with you guys.

“Hi (Y/N),” he says, barely even noticing the other two girls are there, “Can I talk to you?” 

You look at the girls for a moment and they both urge you to leave.

Walking out of Pop’s and down the street towards the bridge, not a word is spoken. Finally, you stop over the river.

“Thought you said you wanted to talk.” you tease, nudging him gently on the shoulder.

“Yeah, well, uh…” he responds.

“The great Jughead Jones, without anything to say?” you continue to tease, just like you had for the past week.

That one gets a smile out of him, and before you know it you’re both laughing on the bridge before a silence settles over you, leading into an awkward moment that can’t be broken by him typing or you sipping your milkshake.

You kick a pebble with your foot, looking down when suddenly his hand is on your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. He leans in before you can say anything and kisses you softly on the lips, his hand going to cup the back of your neck to pull you closer and your hands automatically find a place on his waist. 

He breaks the kiss slowly, keeping your foreheads together.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you, (Y/N).” he whispers, looking for some sort of sign from you.

“Well you could’ve asked me on a date first, but I guess this will do.” you say with a smile, going back in for another kiss.

i’m in love with the shape of you

we push and pull like a magnet do

A month can seem like such a long time when you’re in a relationship. 

Veronica had asked if you guys could come to a party on your one month, and you didn’t see why not. Jug made it very clear he would rather have stayed home and just spend time with you, but you felt like dancing.

It was Cheryl’s party, but as long as your friends were there you didn’t mind as much, and besides, you had the perfect boyfriend anyway.

The music was loud and the dance floor was hot. Betty and Veronica quickly found their way to the center to dance the night away, soon joined by Kevin and Josie. 

Jug was in the corner with his arms crossed, but not for long.

You walk over, hips swaying from side to side.

“Let’s go.” you say.

“Finally.” he sighs, turning to head for the door.

“No no no.” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him towards the dance floor. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find your waist. He remains stiff as other people bump against him, not wanting to get into it. You quickly turn around and put my back to his, swaying your hips against his. 

He leans his head in close to yours, his hands tracing the outline of your curves from your waist to the top of your rib cage down to your thighs. 

You turn back around and lace your hands through his. 

It was his turn to pull you along, and this time you don’t object as he leads you out of the house as you wave a quick goodbye to your other friends. 

although my heart is falling too

i’m in love with your body

The walk home passes by in a blur of sloppy kisses and trying to keep your hands off of each other.

The door to your bedroom opens with a bang, and soon you’re on the bed, his beanie on the floor, and the shirts start to come off.

Your hands entangle themselves in his nearly midnight black hair as you pull him on top of you, your lips finding his. He bites your bottom lip, something he had never done before, so you can’t help but give in, wanting your body’s closer.

He pushes you further on the bed, your hands running over the shape of his waist and his chest, wanting to get every last detail in your head for the rest of time. You hadn’t been this intimate with Jug yet and you wanted it to be etched in the history books.

His hands move to your waistband, his lips hovering over your neck now, his breath on your skin making your own breath hitch at the feeling.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, knowing how you feel about everything. It would be your first time, after all.

“I love you, Jughead Jones.” you say, your hands playing with the hair on the back of his neck now.

“Well you could have waited till I said it first, but I guess this will do.” he says, his eyes finding yours, “I love you.” 

last night you were in my room

and now my bedsheets smell like you

Last night was probably one of the best nights of your entire life. Your boyfriend had slept over, leading to the perfect face to wake up to.

You curl up against his chest, your head on his heart, listening as the beats align with yours. 

“Good morning, princess.” he says softly, his voice deep and husky. It sounds just like you imagined it would. 

His hands find their way to your waist to pull you closer, his thumb tracing circles on your lower back as you lay there. You could stay there for the rest of your life and you would be content. 

Your eyes look up into his, and for the first time you find yourself wanting to stay in this town, because maybe, just maybe, Riverdale can finally be  a home with Jug by your side.