Bughead OneShots (Smut/Fluff)

Chilly Isolation (Fluff)

Betty Pov:
"God, B! Are you always this insensitive?".

Veronica shrieked at me for what seemed like hours, all as she sobbed and choked her way around each threatening, accusing syllable. "You really thought you could go talk to Cheryl, my other best friend, without me finding out and without consequences?? You had the audacity to go behind my back?", she raged.

The hypocrisy bewildered me as I let out a scoff. "Veronica, I already told you, Cheryl is my COUSIN!", I retorted defensively. "Besides, I'm allowed to be friends with whomever I choose! Friends, best friends, aren't supposed to micromanage each other's lives!".

She strutted up to me, nostrils flaring, steam practically puffing from her ears as her eyes stared into mine glaringly. Her hand flew up, delivering a solid slap to my cheek. "You're a bitch, Elizabeth Cooper. Never speak to me again.", she stated, spitting at me in a belittling manner as she flounced past me.

I lost my best friend. Was she that remarkable a friend? No. Was she one of the only sources of support that I had? Yes.

I cried the whole way home, shoving the door open and sprinting up the stairs to my room, wanting to slam my bedroom door vociferously and shun away all the worries and demons out lingering in the world amongst the other people around me.

My head buried itself into my pillow, my veins filling with the feeling of demolition and never-ending agony as I continued to silently sob, my head becoming increasingly more dizzy, my thoughts becoming increasingly more vague, faint, and unclear.

A few hours later I shot up with a start, unaware that I had fallen into a light sleep to begin with. My door flew open, the irate expression of my mother's face paralyzing me. "Elizabeth Cooper...". Her snarky tone rang through my tired ears, my head being pounded on my a hammer in my mind. "I just got a call from a certain Veronica Lodge... She informed me that that you purposefully sought out Cheryl Blossom, the daughter of our sworn enemies?".

I had just about had it with both of them. "God, Mom! We aren't the Union and the Confederates! What the hell is this baseless feud that you've been bathing in with them? Why is there so much fire and heat between our families? Why do you guys have such a problem? Cheryl is my cousin!! I should be allowed to speak to her whenever I please!". I was shocked as the words escaped my mouth on their own merits, having no control over what I had said, though presently surprised that I was capable of standing up for myself to my all-powerful mother.

The ordeal had my mother visibly taken aback as well.

"Leave.", she whispered, her tone nothing less than cold, no detection of remorse or plaintiveness. "Leave this house. I refuse to tolerate this disrespect from you. You're nothing but an ungrateful little whore anyways. I always preferred Polly. Too bad she got pregnant...".

Once again, before I was fully conscious of what I was currently doing, I was out the door within a flash, nothing but a small duffle in hand. Thoughtlessly, I ambled towards the Picken's Park, a few tears taking their leisurely time as they exuded onto my cheeks.

I found myself sitting nonchalantly and impassively on a park bench, the ice-cold chill of the metal seeping through my jeans. The shiver of my spine as the numbingly crisp winter breeze trailed onto my skin pulled me in and out of shock, stacking further discomfort onto my already worn-down body. It was all too much for me.

My face fell into my frozen hands, blubbering sounds coming from what I thought was a still, raw, desensitized body. Rain showered around me, Mother Nature drenching me in her sorrows as well. Drenched. My clothes were soaked, my limbs lifeless, feeling as if they'd been injected with novocaine.

Even the earth didn't think it necessary to give poor Betty Cooper some emotional relief.

Warmth. It felt as if it burned my skin, transferring my sudden life back through me, whatever had touched my shoulders

My ponytail whipped across my face as I spun around in my seat, finding a man, his shirt sopping with rainwater. I couldn't see his face. It remained a blur as I strained to blink the tears and raindrops from my eyes. He maneuvered around the bench, lifting me up gingerly by my elbows. "U-Um, I heard you c-crying out here. It's really c-c-cold, and I think you might benefit from some heat and comfort and hot cocoa.", he whispered shouted as it began to pour harder.

This nudged his insistence further. "Please. My name's Jughead Jones. You can trust me. Let me help you.".

How could I say no to a handsome, outwardly caring man, who's electrifying blue eyes could pierce through my soul, even through the thick downpour. "I- Um, o-okay.", I stuttered, both of our jaws chattering ceaselessly.

Before I could mutter the phrase "thank you" to this stranger (though his name was made known early on), he placed me delicately onto his couch, his house radiating a cozy, homey sensation that I hadn't felt in longer than I could strain myself to remember. He draped a fuzzy blanket over my shoulders, kneeling in front of me with a mug of freshly-made hot chocolate before plopping down cautiously beside me.

"Look.", he began. "I'm not going to compel you into telling me anything. I-I just want you to know that I'm here for you, despite having just met you. And... I figured that you might need a place to stay, considering the state I found you in.", he said comfortingly, his hand laying once more on my shoulder. "Will you stay with me?".

I bit my lip, thankfulness and a twinge of guilt  flooding my eyes. My head bobbled in a slow, steady nod as tears welled down my cheeks. "Okay.".

Right. It's late. I'm going to sleep. Feedback is appreciated!💜