Bughead OneShots (Smut/Fluff)

Hopes (Part 2) (Fluff)

Betty Pov:
Purgatory.

That is the only way I could possibly describe what life began to felt like.

I was stuck in an endless loophole, cycling through heartbreak and numbness into my life and back over again. I spun and spun, becoming dizzy as I felt as if I would continue to sink forever, all of my hopes having disappeared.

He'd been gone for God knows how long. Two years? Three? Five? Ten? No, not ten, right? It couldn't have been that long; it felt as if he had just left the day before...

It always felt that way.

Maybe I wasn't really alive. Maybe I had passed quietly, myself unaware of my mortality. Maybe it was me instead that left, in what could've been a similar or completely unconnected manner.

Every time I pinched myself, I felt the sting of my nails burying themselves into my skin, blood vessels rushing to the surface to cover the fresh wound I'd created.

I didn't want to feel it. I didn't want to allow myself to be pulled into the harsh reality that I was indeed still very much living, and that Jug had still very much disappeared from my life.

I missed him more than imaginable. It was unfathomable.

So much so that I quite literally couldn't cry anymore. Not a single tear. I felt myself being eaten from the inside out, my tear ducts dried over. I wanted to. I wanted to sob for him, to scream his name until, somehow, he would return.

It's as if I'd subconsciously silenced myself over time, gradually wearing myself out until my emotions festered only within me, refusing to leave through any cavity in my broken body. 

I remember.

I remember the day it happened. The ceiling fan rotated for hours on end, my eyes glued to it as I forced myself to stare, growing rather tiresome. But that was my life at that point; irksome, tedious, fruitless. Meaningless.

I allowed the wearisome sensation overwhelm my soul, hoping that I would drift off silently this time, permanently.

I'm thankful that wish didn't come true.

⚠️TW⚠️
The knob on the front door struggled to turn, shaking rapidly before I heard the jungle of keys directly outside. I didn't even bother to spare a glance. Let the intruder enter. They can take anything they want. Maybe they'll take me, too. Maybe they're here to kill me. This pain might finally end.

The door flew immediately flew open, the person successfully entering my house. My peripheral vision allowed me to see a head of curly black hair, overgrown and in need of a haircut.

They suddenly froze in place, paralyzed and stuck to the ground as I noticed their head whiz in my direction. A sharp inhale. A choke. A small sob. And then they sprinted over.

For a moment, I was afraid. For the first time in ages, I didn't want to die.

I held my hands out in a weak, pathetic attempt to defend myself, but I hadn't done so soon enough. Before I had the chance, they had thrown themselves on top of me, pushing their lips into mine with vigor. They shoved their tongue into my mouth, groaning desperately against my mouth.

For the first millisecond, I wanted to shove them away, to tell them to get the hell off of me and to scream and bawl. But the moment their lips connected with mine, despite the fact that my eyes had previously squeezed themselves shut out of fear, I recognized the taste of his lips after all that time.

I let out a cry, not out of despair of being in pain or of being terrified, but despair of longing and an incomprehensible amount of joy. My body had apparently found containing my emotions unsustainable at that very moment as I sobbed with relief, tangling my hands furiously into his hair.

He pulled his lips away from mine, jolting as his sobs began to synchronize with mine, grabbing the back of my head and pulling it into his chest as I hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Betts. How I've missed you.", he whispered.

"J-Jug. Ple-ase tell me this is r-eal.", I pleaded him.

His body pulled me up, him laying down on the opposite end of the couch with me now on top of him. A whiff of the subtle scent of cigarettes wafted off of his dirt-coated clothing. "It's m-me, Betts. It's me. I'm finally here. I'm home. I found my way back to you.".

I recall waking up the next morning, naked and tangled in the sheets as I began to panic. I cried out, fearful that it had all been some cruel dream that had been sent to my mind. I curled myself up into a fetal position, hugging my knees tightly as my cries increased, though becoming distant to my ears.

I felt a pair of strong arms encapsulate me, pulling me tightly to his chest.

My eyes shot open, grateful and relieved to find the  still unshaven, unkempt, but beautiful man staring down at me, concern flooding his eyes. "Shh, my love. It's okay. I'm here, really. I know that's why you got upset; you were scared it was all a fantasy. But I'm back. We're both safe again. We can continue our lives. We can finally feel again.".

A lot of you requested a part 2, so here I am, writing this at 2 in the morning because I'm inspired. I really hope you guys like this! Feedback is appreciated! 💜