Bughead Oneshots // Compilation

"You understand, right?"

Song: "Lost" by Emily Afton, "Believer" by Imagine Dragons

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Trigger Warning: Sexual Content ahead.

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|| J. JONES ||

Betty has been ignoring me all day.

I don't know why, but she has been paying more attention to Veronica than me. It's not that hanging out with Veronica is a bad thing—they're best friends, I can't blame them—but the fact that she's ditched me for Veronica is getting so...curious.

And it's not just today, it's already been a week!

The only reason why I don't complain to her is because I might give her the vibes that I'm overpossessive of her and that I'm the clingiest of all clingy people. And that's the last thing I want.

I was lying down on the couch of my dad's trailer, an episode of Breaking Bad playing on the television. The windows were open, letting cool air enter the small living area although it wasn't cold enough. I lay shirtless, only in a pair of jeans, my beanie lost somewhere in the room. I must have dropped it accidentally while walking around the trailer or took it off eventually due to the intolerable heat outside.

Summer is drawing near, and it's really starting to get on my nerves.

I didn't even realize that there was someone knocking on the door—it was too hot for me to even care about my surroundings. Even focusing on the show was hard for me since I have to keep fanning myself with my hands!

"Juggie?"Great, now I'm hearing her voice in my head! Am I really that clingy?

"Juggie?"Why do I keep hearing her voice inmy head? It's not like we broke up or something, why am I getting so worked up over this? Maybe I should forget the fact that she's starting to ditch me.

"Juggie! I know you're there!"I finally snapped back into reality, whipping my head around, seeing Betty peeking through the window. She wore a tank top, obviously beaded with sweat. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, almost as if she was in a rush tying it up.

My God, she looks so fücking hot.

I stood up from the couch, walking over to the front door, mentally scolding myself for not opening the door for her. She only wore shorts beneath her tank top and slippers, so she must have sneaked out of her house in such a rush to get here.

It's not like I'm complaining, though.

Here, I can apply one of my many life mottos—the lesser, the better.

"It's late, Betts. What are you doing here?"I asked, leaning against the door frame. I could see her eyes wander off to my torso, and I could feel myself smirking as her cheeks reddened, gulping softly. She shook her head, and when she looked back up at me, she was much more composed.