The Reader and the Writer (Part 3)
Anon requests: Will you please do part 3 of the reader and the writer
You’re writing is so amazing, it’s what keeps me alive 😂😍 so thank you for doing such an amazing job and I hope you’re having an amazing day 💜 And I was wondering if you consider writing a part 3 of The Reader and The Writer someday? Because I’d love to read more of it 🙈
Please please PLEASE do a Part 3 to the reader and the writer? It’s amazing x
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PART THREE OF THE READER AND THE WRITER PLEASE
PART 3 OF READER AND THE WRITER
Part 3 of Reader and Writer?? Cause you are too good to us??? Like thank you??? 💞I swoon for your writing 💞
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The Reader and the Writer (part 2) was amazing and so are all ouf your writings ! I can’t wait for a part 3 !
Will you do a part 3 of the reader and the writer??
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Pairing: Jughead x Reader
Description: The reader returns, and she offers the writer some explanations that he’s been waiting for
Word count: 1,041
A/N: It’s here! I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long, I had so much going on this week and I had barely any time to write at all. I hope this makes up for it, enjoy!
Jughead didn’t expect for (Y/N) to return to Pop’s; in fact, he thought she’d leave town. However, the following night he was proven wrong when she walked in and sat across him in their usual booth.
“You’re here,” he stated. (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.
“You expected otherwise?” she inquired, crossing her arms.
“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen you in about a month before yesterday,” Jughead defended himself. (Y/N) sucked in a breath and went to contradict him, but she realized he was right, so she shut her mouth. They sat in silence, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other. Finally, (Y/N) sighed and broke the quiet.
“So I’m guessing you want to talk about it,” she said, not even bothering to pull out a book. Jughead nodded as he closed his laptop.
“I think I deserve a bit more information than the fact that you were born in Riverdale,” he grumbled.
“You do,” she agreed.
“So why did you think that was important to tell me?” Jughead began the interrogation. “Out of all the things to say to stop me from leaving, why that?”
“Well it worked, didn’t it?” (Y/N) attempted to joke, but Jughead didn’t even crack a smile. She sighed and continued. "I don’t know, because that’s the beginning. I’m a reader, Jug, I like to start at the beginning of a story.“
"And so your beginning started here.”
“But then you moved somewhere else?” Jughead asked. (Y/N) nodded. "Why?“
"Because we had to,” she responded. "My parents were… unpleasant people, to say the least. Bad people tend to mingle, and thus my parents met the Blossoms.“ Jughead’s head perked up at the mention of the family.
"The Blossoms?” he echoed. "As in Jason Blossom?“
"No, the other notorious Blossom family in Riverdale,” she rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word. "Yes, Jason Blossom’s family.“ Jughead’s silence signaled for her to continue. “My family and their family had this long-lasting feud for as long as I can remember.”
“So is that why you left?” he asked. “Because of the feud?”
“Yes,” she answered tentatively, “and no. It’s complicated. You see, I didn’t leave Riverdale with my parents.” (Y/N) paused for a moment, biting her lip. “My parents were murdered.” Jughead’s eyes widened as he realized the severity of her situation.
“The Blossoms did it?” he immediately assumed. (Y/N) shook her head.
“Not that we know of,” she replied. “They never figured out who did it. Yes, the Blossoms were high on the suspect list, but personally, I don’t think it was them. They’re too snobbish to actually murder someone.” The pair fell into a silence, Jughead attempting to soak up all the information he was just given. (Y/N) lazily glanced around the dinner, scanning the strangers’ faces.
“Why’d you come back?” Jughead spoke up. (Y/N)’s eyes flicked back to his face.
“They were about to sell our old home,” she shrugged. “My aunt was infuriated, so she packed up all our things and moved here.” Jughead had so many more questions swirling around his mind, but when he observed (Y/N)’s face, he saw how tired and deflated she looked.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “this is too much for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to tell me everything at once.”
“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I want to tell you, I… you deserve to know.” Jughead reached across the table, grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, and gazed at her in a manner she couldn’t quite distinguish. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. They just sat there in the booth, on a quiet day in Pop’s, Jughead holding (Y/N)’s hand and she was letting him. Without speaking, she understood what he was trying to tell her: there was nothing left to say.
For the next two weeks, neither Jughead nor (Y/N) said anything to each other. They still went to Pop’s every night, and they sat together at the same booth. But (Y/N) always had a book, and Jughead always had his laptop. Frequently, when one of them wasn’t looking, the other would glance up and stare for just a moment.
On a slow Tuesday, Veronica entered Pop’s. She was only there to pick up the food she and her mom had ordered, but she noticed (Y/N) and Jughead sitting together at a booth, and so she sped over there.
“You’re back,” she noted, sitting down next to (Y/N). She glanced up, putting Frankenstein down, and shot Veronica a timid smile.
“I’ve been back for a few weeks,” she responded. Veronica furrowed her eyebrows.
“Really?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to Jughead. He didn’t look up from his computer. (Y/N) awkwardly nodded, turning back to her novel. Veronica glanced back and forth between (Y/N) and Jughead, waiting for one of them to say something. “Do you guys ever talk?”
“It’s not always necessary,” Jughead replied, rolling his eyes.
“Well yeah,” Veronica shrugged, “but you guys are dead silent. Neither of you have spoken to each other since I got here.” When neither of them replied to her comment, Veronica understood that she was unwanted and left.
The two sat in silence for another hour before Jughead interrupted it by slamming his laptop shut.
“Okay, I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what to say,” he started, catching (Y/N)’s attention. She lifted her eyes from her book and stared at Jughead, puzzled. “But I don’t know. I don’t know what to say! How do I respond to the fact that your parents were murdered?”
“You don’t have to sa-”
“Yes I do!” Jughead interjected. “Because we’re… friends, we’re friends. And I’m supposed to say something to make you feel better.” (Y/N) tilted her head sideways as she gazed at Jughead, trying to think of a reply.
“You still have a question,” she finally said, “don’t you? And you didn’t want to say anything else because you didn’t want to tempt your own curiosity.”
“No,” Jughead shook his head, “no, I-”
“Just ask,” (Y/N) stopped him. “Just ask me, Jug.” He inhaled sharply, and examined her face. There was no doubt, no hesitation; just determination with a hint of anger. Jughead sighed, giving into (Y/N)’s, and his own curiosity’s, demands.
“What’s your real name?”
Part four here