Bughead OneShots (Smut/Fluff)

"Mark my words" (Fluff/TW⚠️)

Betty Pov:
My lip trembled as the icy chill of the late-night October wind blasted into my skin, seeping through the holes in my torn leather jacket that I'd chosen to wear that day. My lacy spaghetti strap crop top hung lazing off of my shoulder, my skirt hanging rather dreadfully from my waist as it had been stretched and ripped. My high-heel boots crunched against the wet gravel path that led up to Jug's trailer, the only place I could wander to without any form of clear thought.

I mindlessly stumbled up the steps, knocking twice and about to follow it with a third before the door swung open. He stood on the other side, his beanie thrown nonchalantly onto his head of unkempt bed-head of black curls. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, reaching out to instinctively take my hand as he led me in.

"Hey, Betts. What are you doing here? It's...", he whispered in a husky tone, glancing at the clock.

"Baby, it's almost 3 in the morning. What's going on? Why... Why do your clothes look as if they've been pulled in 17 different directions at once?", he queried observantly and concernedly, eyes becoming increasingly more awake as he sat back down onto the couch.

His laptop still stood open, the bright screen light shining far too brightly as it was the only light that remained ablaze in the sleepy trailer. He placed me onto the couch, sitting carefully next to me while his strong, yet soft, hands lifted the straps of my shirt back up my arms and onto my shoulders.

He turned around behind him, stretching as he reached to turn on the lamp behind him, it flickering hesitantly for a moment before it decided to cooperate at this hour.

"God, Betts... You look horrible. Are you okay?", he asked, quick to take both of my hands into his as he scooted closer, our thighs touching.

My mind remained blank as I desperately attempted to force numbness through my veins. My efforts were continuously revealed to be futile, nothing left but pain and guilt and more pain...

And the man who sat caringly beside me at 3 in the morning when he aught to be asleep and at peace, instead of dealing with his puffy-eyed girlfriend.

I began to shake with trepidation caused by what had happened less than an hour ago and by what I feared might happen. How else was I to feel? Was I meant to feel this accountability? Surely. I didn't think I would ever be able to forgive myself for what I had unknowingly drawn myself towards, and my mind consciously blocked out any senses of resentment as I blamed myself.

I stared back up at Jug instead of gazing endlessly at my lap, analyzing every minuscule detail of his face. His strapping jawline, the light facial hair that had begun to inhabit his face that I so much adored, the magnetic blue eyes that were capable of righting any of the personal wrongs that brewed and festered in my mind and stomach...

Why couldn't they work the same way that time as well?

My eyes roamed to his plump, kissable lips that were consistently irresistible to me. They fit perfectly with my own, and he maneuvered them in the perfect manner; taking my breath away with every delicate or intense kiss he gave me.

"Betty, what's the matter? I can tell something's wrong.".

"I need you to kiss me, Juggie.".

"But babe-".

"Kiss me.".

Before he could spit out another word, I grabbed his face, pulling him forcefully towards my face as I miserably longed for the comfort he could provide. He gasped into it, shocked by the sudden movement and contact. I threw my arms around his neck, my fingers curling up into his hair as his hands found the small of my back, pulling me closer to him as I climbed onto his lap.

"B-Betty, wait.", he sputtered between my desolate kisses. "I-I can tell something's up, Betty. Please tell me, you're worrying me. You're... you're kissing me differently.".

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️
His hands slipped around my waist, traveling further down the surface of my skirt. They made their way to the bottom of it, finding the sag of it the further he went. My breath hitched and tears flooded my eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows troubledly. He gently lifted the edge of my skirt, revealing the severe bruising that engulfed my thighs up to my area, hardly clothed as my underwear was also split.

"Oh my God...", he mumbled, tearfully tracing his fingertips around them as I began to quiver more than before.

"J-Jug I'm so sorry, I-I didn't want-".

"Baby, d-d-did someone hurt you??", he stuttered as his nostrils flared, tears streaming down his face. "Were you... were you raped??".

"I-I'm sorry Juggie, it's all my fault. I t-told the guy to stop b-but he didn't want to. I-I shouldn't have worn this. I look like a-".

"DO NOT finish that sentence, Betts.", he interrupted, hurriedly pulling me into his chest as he shifted my legs so that they both draped across his lap, closed together. My face buried into his shoulder as I clung to his shirt, grasping fistfuls of it into my hands as I wailed. One of his hands held my head, massaging it as he laid back down onto the couch with me on his chest.

"This is not your fault, my love, and you do not look like a slut. You are my beautiful girl whom I love more than anything. I'm so sorry t-that I wasn't there protect you. I-I'm just so so-rry.". He began to sob quietly as he held me closer and tighter, gently rocking us back and forth.

"This will never happen to you again, I swear it.", he whispered as I whimpered in pain, in remembrance, and in gratitude that I had such a protective boyfriend. "It's not your fault that you're stunning or that you're not strong enough to fend off 200 pound men. You're not going out alone ever again, and I swear to you, I will find whoever did this to you.".

"Mark my words, Betts: Nobody hurts my girl without suffering the consequences.".

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