Bughead Oneshots

Plus One (Part 2)

Betty woke up to the sun shining through her eyelids and she smiled a little, feeling like she was at home. She sat with a start and a gasp a moment later, breathing heavily. "Aren't we late?" she asked Jughead who was sitting in the chair in the corner, drinking from a cup of coffee with his laptop perched on his knees.

"Don't we have to leave? Why didn't you wake me?" She looked at him with questioning eyes and he just seemingly ignored her, going back to whatever he was doing. "Hello," she said sassily. He looked over his laptop a moment later and she breathed deeply. "We kissed last night..." he nodded, going back to his computer. "Oh my god, we kissed last night. And-And slept in the same bed and I told you..." she whimpered laying back down on the bed. "I wish I was hungover."

He chuckled, sighing. "I was thinking about stopping for breakfast," he said softly and she rolled over to face him. His laptop was now closed and he gave her a soft smile. "But if we want to do that, you gotta get up and get ready."

She watched him for a minute before she asked, "You don't hate me for telling you to kiss me, right?" He sighed, setting his computer on the table in front of him next to his coffee. He stood up and her eyes followed him as he came to kneel beside the bed next to her.

"Betty," he started. "How can I hate you, when I kissed you? Listen, it's not like we have boyfriends or girlfriends and it's not like we have to strictly stay friends. We gotta kiss at the wedding anyway so they'll buy it, so let's just say it's practice."

He nodded, standing up and moving back towards the chair. "But," she said softly, and he turned to face her. "What if I don't want it to just be practice? What if I... liked it?"

He smirked, shrugging as he sat down. "Then we'll just see what happens."

~

They had stopped for breakfast and had finished the drive to their hotel for that weekend. When they had gotten there, Jughead had brought in their things, Betty helping. When that was done, they had each fallen back on the bed, Jughead huffing.

She glanced over at him, furrowing her brows. "Is there going to be a rehearsal dinner?" she asked with almost a frown. "I don't see the need for rehearsal dinners. Just let people come in, say the bullshit they want to say while others eat, then let people get drunk and dance like they're at home."

He chuckled, looking over at her as he said, "I'm sensing you hate weddings as well."

"They're just so... ritzy. Like, all the time." He quirked a brow in response. She rolled onto her side, watching him. "Think about it. Mommy and daddy always pay for their kids weddings and they always look like they got inspiration from the fucking Met. I don't want that. Courthouse wedding, that's what I want. You sign the papers then you get the fuck out of there and go back to your day. It's so much easier." He looked at her with love and she blushed slightly. "What?"

He shook his head, sighing. "Nothing."

She shrugged, rolling back on her back while she said, "Do you know how many guys I have pissed off by telling them I don't want a ballgown and those nasty smelling bouquets and the big, huge chandelier?"

"If I had to guess," he chuckled. "Probably quite a few." She giggled a little herself and he sighed. "Do you want kids?"

She hummed, shrugging. "I don't know, I think so—with the right person, that is. See, a lot of the guys I've been with in the past, if we had gotten married, I wouldn't want kids. They all just screamed 'not the right material' you know? And no hate to them, but they just made me nervous around kids—not in a creepy way. It was more in a 'If you piss me off, I might strangle you' way."