Bughead Oneshots ❤️

Bruises Pt.1

TW:Abuse

Jughead POV-

That raven-haired bitch. Veronica Lodge I believe. She sat at the wooden table, hair lightly combed, pushing one of the three coffee cups in my direction. Now that I think about it, Veronica isn't actually a bitch, it's Archie Andrews. He's the biggest ass-hat on the planet. "Hey, thanks for letting us borrow the movie last night Jughead, I really appreciate it!" The joy in her tone should've warmed my heart, but instead filled me with anger.

Just the night before, previous of Veronica's arrival, I overheard a conversation between Archie and his REAL girlfriend over the phone. 'Archie! I got you something! Can we meet up at Pops tonight?' 'Sorry me and my roommate have plans.' But we didn't have plans. Veronica hadn't known, but she was the side chick, Archie had two girlfriends, he was breaking the heart of one, and soon would the other.

The apartment was empty, quiet, and smelled odd, what a perfect time to check my applications. I ran the schools writing club. In the club, I would have my peers write. Some would write for the Blue and Gold printing office, and some would write just to vent. Anything was cool for the writing club.

Over the course of time I've had confessions of self harm, Ive gotten stories of embarrassing prom moments, I've had rumors on paper, you name it. After reading them though, I wondered who would create their own stories. Not from an actual event, but from their imagination.

As I read each page, none of them stood out to me. I continued to flip through them until one caught my attention. Betty Cooper. It wasn't only the amazing handwriting, nor the beautiful pen color, but the small doodles on the sides of the pages. Small drawings filling every inch of the margins. An arm reaching up gracefully, a hand holding a rose, bleeding from the thorns, a girl falling from an unknown point, her hair gently pushing to the front of their vision, and one sketch that really intrigued me: a girl with beautiful long hair... drowning? The bubbles escaping her mouth in clusters, her t-shirt flowing freely under the water. Why would she do something like that?

I read her entry- a poem. My eyes softly rolled. I was so excited to read the text alongside the smudged drawings, but really "Betty"? A poem? How could it be so meaningful like her drawings, if it were a poem? I reluctantly began to read. 'Getting It Back

She cared for him,

She loved him so,

For everyday,

Their hearts would grow,

But he parted his way,

As he left her alone,

She sat and waited half of a whole,

She hoped,

She dreamed her half would come back,

A constant ache,

A never ending break,

Though it was right in front of her,

It was something she couldnt take.' I blinked in disbelief. How... was this so... amazing? I had never been a man of poems, or love, but now all I desperately wanted was to meet Betty Cooper. She sounded like a beautiful mystery, a force to be reckoned with, someone who's seen it all.

I softly clipped her note into a light green binder, which had only one other note in it, one of mine, except mine didn't have doodles, nor was it in exceptional handwriting, but it was choppy, and uncoordinated. The journal entry about my first crush in 7th grade, Toni Topaz. She was was stunning, charming, and fierce, so I finally kissed her. We had a fun night one might say, but I went for breakfast the next morning, to see her there, and that's when she said those five, heartbreaking words, that crushed my self esteem- "I'm more into girls anyways,". Now I realized someone has felt my pain, Betty Cooper, the maiden of mystery.