𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Jughead Jones | Writers Block

Summary: Jughead gets writers block, and you try to help

Warning: A SMALL SPOILER FOR SEASON 5

Word Count: 708

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JUGHEAD so engrossed in his writing that he didn't hear your voice from the living room. 'Jug?' you called out, hoping to get his attention.

He finally looked up from his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. 'Huh?'

You rolled your eyes, knowing how focused he could be on his work. 'Are we going to dinner or are you just going to ignore me and continue working on your book?'

Jughead sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'Sorry, I've got writer's block,' he said, looking defeated. 'Nothing's coming to me, no matter how hard I try.'

You shook your head, trying to keep your annoyance in check. 'Woah, calm down. Maybe a dinner date will help you unwind and give your mind a break?'

But Jughead was already reaching for his phone. 'I can't. I need to call Sam,' he said, his eyes fixed on the screen.

'Right, because your book is way more important than your girlfriend,' you snapped, the frustration finally boiling over.

'Wait, y/n...' Jughead started, but it was too late.

'No, it's fine,' you said, turning away. 'I would offer to help, but it seems like you got it figured out.'"

Jughead looked up, a pained expression on his face. 'No, I don't. Maybe we can order pizza instead? I'm sorry, y/n.'

You sighed, your anger fading a bit. 'Fine. But you owe me a proper date night later.'

You decided to let it go. Jughead had been struggling with his book for a while now, and it was clear that the pressure was taking a toll on him. He might have forgotten about dinner, but his heart was in the right place, and you didn't want to add to his stress.

'Pizza will be here in twenty minutes. Floor or desk?' you asked, gesturing to the various surfaces in your apartment.

Jughead considered it for a moment before answering. 'Let's do the floor so we can both see. That way, we can work together on this.'

You settled down on the floor beside Jughead, your knees brushing against each other as you both gazed at the typewriter.

'What're you having trouble with?' you asked, your voice calm and reassuring.

'Everything,' he sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'I just can't seem to get it right.'

You gave him a small smile, your hand rubbing his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 'Hey, we got this. I'm here to help.'

Jughead let out a long breath and looked at you gratefully. 'Right. After this chapter, I've been stuck on how to start it. The first line of the freaking page. I don't know why, but I just can't get it right.'

You turned to Jughead and smiled. 'Babe, what's the first sentence that comes to mind?' you asked, watching his face for a response.

He looked at you, skepticism written across his features. 'Seriously?'

'Trust me,' you said, giving him a reassuring nod.

Jughead hesitated for a moment before answering. 'Fine. The three of them walked into the forest, not knowing what was ahead of them.'

You leaned in to read over his shoulder. 'Sounds good. Add it,' you encouraged.

Jughead typed the sentence into the typewriter, a small smile forming on his lips. 'I don't know what I would do without you,' he whispered, turning to press a kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, your heart swelling with love and pride for his progress.

The doorbell chimed, interrupting your tender moment. 'That was a fast twenty minutes,' you remarked with a chuckle.

'I know,' Jughead replied, smiling at you.

You got up to answer the door, paying the pizza delivery man before returning to your spot on the floor next to Jughead. You picked up a slice, took a bite, and then spoke, 'Shall we continue?'

Jughead mirrored your actions, taking a bite of his own pizza slice. 'We shall,' he said, smiling once again. With the pizza acting as fuel for both your bodies and your creative minds, you settled in to continue working on his book, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.