Bughead Oneshots?

Betty parked her car in the driveway of her and Jug's home. The sale of Jughead's past two books and due to Betty being the most trusted fetal surgeon in the state, had allowed them to purchase a slightly larger home than usual. They had a six bedroom manor house with a horseshoe drive that they were desperate to fill with little lives. Betty took a deep breath and took the keys out of the ignition, trying to prepare herself for what she might walk into tonight. Over the past month, she's seen all kinds of things when she's arrived home; Jughead tugging on his hair, pacing back and forth whilst mumbling and slurring, one time she even came home to him crying at his desk and when she raced over, Betty rubbed his back, only for him to flinch and look up, his bloodshot, swollen eyes with confusion on his face.
After an eight hour long surgery that left both mom and baby in the ICU, Betty just wanted to curl up on the couch with her husband. Unfortunately fate had other plans.

"I'm home, baby!" Betty yelled, closing her front door and shrugging off her coat, revealing her baby pink scrubs. Betty turned away from the coat hook to see her husband staggering in from his office, a crystal scotch glass in hand.
"There you are! I was getting worried." He slurred, slightly, making his way closer to her.
"Sorry, my surgery ran over, there were complications with the mom bu-"
"You wanna go upstairs, sexy?" Jughead interrupted, putting his glass on the side table and wrapping his arms around her waist. Jughead leaned down and smashed his lips against his wife's causing a surprised grunt to fall from her lips from the impact.

It's not like she wasn't used to kisses from her husband when either of them returned from work, but he tasted like alcohol. Even when she got kisses from him after work, he would always listen to what she said about her day and he hasn't even asked.
"Jug, can we just talk for a bit? I had a rough day." She murmured, placing her hands on his chest. He picked up his glass and downed the rest before stumbling back to his office for a refill, Betty following on his tail.
"Jug? I'm trying to talk to you. Will you listen to me please?" She asked, a hurt expression on her face. Betty reached for his elbow to get him to turn around, but he yanked it away causing his drink to slosh over the lip of the glass and onto the rug.

"I gotta work." He huffed, throwing himself on the desk chair, an angry scowl on his face.
"Well, how has your day been?" Betty asked, trying to conjure up some kind of conversation out of him.
"Crappy. Don't you need to shower or something?" He mumbled, fingers scattering across the keyboard as the light from the laptop shines across his features, highlighting the glazed over eyes from the alcohol. Betty scoffed and looked down at her scrubs.
"Gee, thanks." She mumbled. "Look, Jug I-"
"Jeez, you just don't quit. Can't you just piss off?" He muttered, eyes still on the laptop, downing the scotch that's left in the glass. Betty's breath got stuck in her throat. Jughead had never spoken to her like that before, especially cussing.
"Is there something...?" Betty trailed off, seeing Jughead looking at her with an unamused expression on his face, finally looking up into her eyes. "You know what, forget it." She muttered, getting up and walking out the door of the office, slamming the door after herself.

Betty walked upstairs, making a phone call to Veronica on her way and shoved some clothes and toiletries into an overnight bag before making her way down the stairs. As she made it to the ground floor, she placed her bag on the floor and shrugged on her coat, pulling her hair out from the back of it. Just as she had pulled on her shoes and reached for the door handle, Jughead emerged from the office with a confused look on his face.
"Where are you going?" He asked, his words slurred slightly.
"I'm going to stay with Veronica for awhile until you sort your shit out." She said, turning the door handle.
"No!" He yelled, pushing the door shut again.
"Jughead, let me go..." She spoke, calmly, avoiding eye contact.
"You're not going anywhere." He said.
"Excuse me?" She guffawed, exasperated by his behaviour.
"You're not going anywhere unless I'm going with you, you hear me?" He said.