𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

Rivals | Jughead Jones

Summary: You're a new reporter at The Blue & Gold, taking over while Betty handles other responsibilities. Your competitive streak puts you at odds with Jughead, but late nights at the office blur the line between rivalry and something more

Warnings: None

Word Count: 936

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YOUR first week at The Blue & Gold had already been full of surprises. You were eager to prove yourself, having landed a spot on the school newspaper after weeks of relentless effort. Betty Cooper, the editor, was supportive, and she seemed to have high hopes for you. But there was one person who didn't seem to share her enthusiasm: Jughead Jones.

You met him the day you were assigned to write a piece about Riverdale's town history. Betty had suggested you ask Jughead for some local insights, but his response was anything but warm when you walked into the Blue & Gold office.

"Betty seems to think you can write," Jughead muttered without looking up from his notebook, his dark hair falling over his eyes. "Hope you've got thick skin, rookie."

You raised an eyebrow. "I've written plenty. I'm sure I can handle it."

He looked up at you, his smirk sharp. "We'll see."

It was clear that he didn't think you were worthy of sharing the spotlight at The Blue & Gold. But you weren't going to back down. You dove into your research, determined to impress, but every time you submitted an article or pitch, Jughead was there with his critiques.

"Not bad, but you missed the heart of the story," Jughead would say as he tossed your work aside, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Try again."

Each comment stung, but you kept your head high. You didn't care about his condescending attitude; you were here to prove you could do this, with or without his approval.

But then came the day you both ended up paired together for a big investigative piece. The town's old theater, long thought to be abandoned, was rumored to have strange things going on behind the scenes. Betty had chosen you both for the task, clearly seeing some kind of potential in the partnership. Of course, Jughead wasn't happy about it.

"So, now I'm stuck working with you?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes as the two of you sat across from each other in the Blue & Gold office, trying to figure out your angle. "Great."

"Look, it's not my choice either," you replied, a little too quickly, but trying to keep your cool. "But we've got a job to do."

He sighed dramatically, slouching in his chair. "Fine. But don't expect me to play nice."

You had no intention of playing nice either. You both dove into the investigation with a competitive edge. Jughead was relentless—always searching for the deeper story, pushing you to dig further. Meanwhile, you were just as determined to make sure your name was on the byline next to his.

After hours spent interviewing old town residents and combing through dusty archives at the library, you both found yourselves in the dimly lit office late one night, working to piece together your findings. There was a quiet tension in the room, something more than just the looming deadline.

"You're not so bad, you know," Jughead muttered as he glanced over your latest notes, his tone less biting than usual. "I thought you were just another one of Betty's golden children."

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. "Betty's not the only one who can write a decent story."

Jughead looked up, the corner of his lips lifting in a half-smile. "That's true."

There was something in his gaze that made you pause—something that wasn't just about the story anymore. Maybe it was the way he softened when he wasn't trying to prove something, or maybe it was just the late hour making everything seem a little more intense than it actually was.

"You know," Jughead continued, pushing his hair back, "I didn't think I'd say this, but I might actually need your help with this one. You're not as bad as I thought."

You raised an eyebrow. "Was that an apology?"

His eyes flickered. "Maybe."

You smirked back, feeling a rush of confidence. "Good. I'll take it."

As the night wore on, the conversation shifted from the investigation to more personal topics—your shared love of classic films, your different writing styles, and the bizarre, frustrating aspects of Riverdale life. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him once the rivalry was set aside, but you weren't foolish enough to think it meant anything.

The next day, you both presented your findings to Betty and the rest of the team, the article now ready for print. To your surprise, Jughead offered a rare, genuine compliment as you wrapped up.

"You actually made it interesting," he said, his tone almost warm. "Good work."

Your heart skipped, but you didn't let it show. "You didn't make it too boring yourself," you shot back, trying to keep things light.

Betty, who had been watching the exchange from the doorway, raised an eyebrow. "What's going on here? A truce?"

You both looked at each other, then at her, and with a simultaneous shrug, answered, "Maybe."

But deep down, you both knew it was more than that. The rivalry wasn't over—far from it. But there was something else there now, something that neither of you could ignore. And as the days went on, you found yourself waiting for the next round, curious to see just how much the competition—and maybe something else—would evolve between you and Jughead.