Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13861623.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Riverdale_(TV_2017)
  Relationship:
      Betty_Cooper/Jughead_Jones
  Character:
      Betty_Cooper, Jughead_Jones
  Additional Tags:
      jughead's_birthday, Birthday_Smut, Movie_Theatre, Dominant_Jughead, First
      Time, Romance, Angst
  Series:
      Part 5 of Bughead_Stories
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-04 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 8356
****** The Beast Within ******
by ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary
     Originally posted on Fanfiction.net. It's the evening of Jughead's
     birthday and he's looking forward to his tradition of a double
     feature at the Bijou. If only Betty hadn't made that "beast within"
     comment, because now he can't get it out of his head! Rated E for the
     interpretation of Betty's words at the beginning of the night and
     again after the house party.
***** The Double-Feature *****
                                       I
Betty Cooper had ruined his birthday.
Jughead had been a little thrown when Archie had told him that it would be
Betty accompanying him to the Bijou, but he’d mostly gotten over that. Archie’d
been his best friend forever, and now that they were sharing the same room, it
did feel so comfortable and brotherly that it was getting hard for Jughead to
remember how it had been before. Given the bond he and Archie had, Jughead was
surprised at how much the idea of going to the movies with Betty didn’t bother
him. They’d been spending a lot of time together too and, though Jughead didn’t
exactly know everything about Betty or could easily read her the way he did
Archie, he found that, when he thought about it, the importance of his
relationship with Betty had risen to be just about on par with Archie’s
steadfast, reliable presence in Jughead’s life. In short, he was pretty sure
Betty was also his best friend.
Ultimately, Jughead was happy to have either of them at the theatre with him
for his birthday. Archie would be chill and act like it was just another night
hanging out, laughing loudly through the films and staring at Jughead like he
was from another planet when he offered some piece of cryptic literary
commentary. He didn’t expect Betty to get his birthday tradition in the same
way, but he figured her blind devotion to him would more than make up for that.
Jughead was just looking forward to being able to put an arm around his
girlfriend without their entire circle looking on, analyzing them.
God, it sounded so simple! Why did she have to go and complicate it?
Jughead was sunk into his seat, breathing shallowly, and trying not to drum his
fingers where they rested on Betty’s shoulder. Colours flashed before his eyes,
music rose and fell, looks were exchanged, and words were spoken, but he heard
only those Betty had uttered before the film began. About “the beast within.”
Jughead couldn’t see a way to interpret her words that wasn’t sexual—or at
least he couldn’t see it right now, sitting next to Betty in the dark near-
emptiness of the theatre. But to whom were her words referring?
Jughead looked over at Betty out of the corner of his eye. Her blue eyes were
shining in the glow of the screen.
Was Betty secretly longing to dominate him? If so, she must have been keeping
these urges carefully supressed under the fairly innocent kisses they’d shared
thus far. Or, was she dropping hints, trying to egg him on into the sexual
voracity that felt like every teenaged boy’s birthright?
Jughead turned these ideas over and over in his mind for a solid hour of the
first film, only returning to proper viewing mentality when Betty reacted to
something on screen with a laugh or a jump or by some whispered comment in his
direction.
When Betty laid a hand on his thigh and told him she was running out for a
minute to use the restroom, Jughead realized they had reached intermission. In
her brief absence, Jughead’s gaze alternated between the scrolling credits and
the place on his leg where her warm hand had alighted. His palms were sweating.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. There was no way Jughead would be able to get to
sleep that night with Betty’s words still in his head. Hell, there was no way
he’d be able to get through the next hour and forty-nine minutes.
Jughead saw Betty’s blonde head shine as she made her way back up the row
towards him. He pulled himself up in his seat and reached out, grasping the
back of the chair in front of him. Betty stopped short and raised an eyebrow.
“What’s up, Juggy?”
Jughead struggled to avoid any expression that screamed I’ve been trying to
work out what you want from me sexually for the last hour and a half.
He shrugged. “I just wanted to sit with my girlfriend on my birthday and I’m
not loving the armrest situation. Don’t get me wrong, very convenient for soft
drink placement, but when I’m trying to be close to you, this thing feels like
the Berlin Wall.” Jughead banged his fist against the hard barrier.
Betty crossed her arms. “And your proposed solution?”
Jughead’s mouth edged up into a shy smile and he patted his lap.
Betty blinked quickly and looked back and forth, as though Jughead had just
done something illegal and she was expecting to see cops pouring in the
emergency exit.
“Come on. You’re not going to get in trouble.” He kept his eyes on her as she
shifted from foot to foot. “There’s like three other people in here.”
Betty sighed and gave in, not willing to physically push Jughead’s arm aside to
get back to her seat. She sat cautiously in his lap.
“Betts, these aren’t the crappy plastic chairs at the multiplex. Make yourself
comfortable.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder and scooted further into his lap until her
back leaned lightly against his chest. Jughead could feel her heart pounding.
Unless it was his heart. He was very aware of the curve of her ass resting over
his crotch. He reached forward to take her hand and she leaned into him a
little more, relaxing.
The credits of An American Werewolf in London concluded and the projectionist
switched over to Animal House.
Betty turned her face slightly towards him. “So, how’s the birthday going so
far?”
“Perfect. Thank you, Betty.”
He moved to kiss her on the cheek, but she tilted her head so his lips met
hers. Betty drew back slightly, looking from his mouth to his eyes, and Jughead
brought a hand up to her cheek, pulling her back in. She rested a hand on the
outside of his hip and when Jughead pressed his tongue into her mouth and
stroked it gently against hers, he felt her grip tighten. When he broke the
kiss, they were both panting and her face was hot under his palm.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that to happen.” Betty smiled at him.
“Yeah, it’s not like we’re here seeing The Notebook,” Jughead joked.
Suddenly, Betty looked anxious. “Do you think I should go back to my seat?”
Jughead lowered his voice and brushed his mouth across her ear. “Don’t you
dare.” The hand that had been holding hers on the armrest dropped to rub the
denim of her leg. Betty gasped as his hand moved to the halfway point between
her knee and her hip, his fingers trailing over to touch the inside of her
thigh.
Slowly, Betty leaned forward, rolling her hips back so that her ass nudged
Jughead’s groin, then forward, sliding over him again. Jughead tightened his
lips as a groan fought to escape. Her movement had been small, but calculated.
To the eyes of any patron further up the auditorium who happened to look down
at them, Betty would seem to simply be adjusting herself in her seat for
comfort. But to Jughead, coming from Betty Cooper, the motion was provocative
enough that he felt she was practically giving him a lap dance.
He stilled his hand on her inner thigh and inclined his head to kiss up the
side of her neck. Betty repeated the motion with her hips and Jughead’s blood,
already pooling in his lap from sitting for so long, shot to fill his dick. The
next time she ground against him, striking his stiffening erection, Jughead
turned his face into her neck and made a soft choking noise.
His free hand found its way under the edge of Betty’s sweater, touching the
bare skin of her hip. It was very warm and Jughead dug his fingers in slightly,
holding her to him.
As Jughead’s heart pounded in his chest with every shift of Betty’s hips, he
found their careful motions nearly as torturous as sitting stiffly through the
first movie of the double-feature. She moved over him in a way that was so
sensual, and yet so graceful, that for the first time in his life Jughead could
see the appeal of going to a club, if only so he could dance with Betty like
this, holding her body against his. When her rubbing got to be too much, he
turned her face to his, moving his tongue as freely and persuasively as he
would have liked to move his body.
Not much of Animal House was getting through to him, but Jughead would have had
to be deaf to miss the beginning of “Shout.” And he would have had to be
someone other than who he was not to get the idea he got.
The hand that had been keeping it fairly PG-14 down on Betty’s thigh Jughead
now drew back towards himself. His fingers pressed against her, tracing just
above the inside seam of her jeans as though following a road on a map. Betty,
concentrated on her movements against him, didn’t really react until suddenly,
his hand slid right up between her legs, pressing against her. The denim was
damp under Jughead’s palm.
Betty jumped a little, bumping Jughead’s dick and causing his abdominal muscles
to clench as he drew in a sharp breath through his nose. She jerked her head
around to look at him, but Jughead, with as much control as he could manage,
said, “Keep your eyes on the screen.”
He pressed his palm against her firmly, rubbing upwards, and Betty reflexively
pushed herself against his lap. Jughead bit the inside of his lip. His fingers
found the button of her jeans and Betty reached down, squeezing Jughead’s
thigh. Jughead stretched his neck forward to look at her face, thinking Betty
was signalling that he’d taken things far enough, but he found her eyes were
closed and she was smiling.
“Eyes on the screen, Betts,” he whispered to her. Betty shivered against him,
but opened her eyes, glancing at him. Jughead smirked at her.
He flicked open the button and yanked the zipper down quickly. Jughead pressed
his fingertips to the exposed skin of Betty’s lower abdomen. She pressed back
into his lap, her movement causing Jughead’s hand to come in contact with the
fabric of her underwear. It felt lacy—not what he would have expected—and
Jughead’s erection pulsed with frustration.
Jughead licked his lips, psyching himself up to get to third base, but Betty
wasn’t so patient. She grabbed his hand in hers, guiding his fingers far enough
under the band of her panties that he knew she wasn’t just teasing him.
He pressed his hand against her, sighing deeply into her hair as his fingers
slipped through her wetness. Betty jumped as Jughead rubbed across her clit, so
he pushed a little lower then dragged some of her arousal back up, really
making her squirm on his lap.
Playing with her clit was making Betty a little too fidgety, so Jughead cupped
his hand to shape her and rotated it down until he could feel her soaking
entrance. Betty breathed in sharply and tipped her hips forward, making it less
of a struggle for Jughead to fight against the tightness of her jeans. She held
very still as he maneuvered a finger up inside her, hooking it firmly out of
necessity from how they were positioned.
Betty parted her legs in his lap and Jughead slid his finger as far in as it
was possible to. When she let out a moan, he knew his reach was just far
enough. He pushed the heel of his palm back against her clit and Betty rubbed
against his erection. Jughead rocked his hand forward, letting the end of his
middle finger push against her g-spot. Betty wriggled her hips, forcing him to
rub the area firmly as her wetness streamed down along his finger and onto his
hand.
Jughead thrust his hips roughly against her, longing to feel Betty’s tight
squeeze on his cock instead of just his finger. He pressed her clit with the
heel of his hand in a circular motion, as if he were kneading dough, and felt
her thighs begin to tremble.
Jughead was electrified and drove his finger back against her g-spot, stroking
firmly and probing millimeter by millimeter to discover the precise spot to
give Betty maximum pleasure. She ground steadily against him, riding his hand
as though she too were imagining it could be his dick instead. Jughead grasped
Betty’s hip beneath her sweater, driving his thrusts concertedly as she pressed
her ass into his lap.
All of a sudden, Betty grabbed him by the wrist, working herself against his
immobilized hand so that her clit dragged up and down over his palm. Jughead
dropped his free hand to grip her inner thigh, feeling even from inches away
the heat spreading from her core. Her breath had become ragged and she whined
almost as though she were in pain, arching her back as she held Jughead’s wrist
for dear life.
Jughead leaned into her, kissing Betty’s neck just below her ear. He felt her
climax, clenching her muscles around his finger. What destroyed his restraint
was the cry Betty let out as she released. Jughead broke into a smile at the
thought of her making that noise while “Shout” was still playing, but couldn’t
hold it, his mouth dropping open as he came.
Betty slumped back against Jughead, her legs shaking as the aftereffects of her
orgasm played with her nervous system. He drew his hand out gently and felt
Betty refastening her jeans as he wiped his finger off on his pant leg. Jughead
slung his arm across her lap, holding her to him through the rest of the movie
and planting kisses on the side of her face, making her smile.
As their double-feature spun to its end, their handful of fellow movie-goers
headed for the exit. Jughead and Betty stayed put until the final credit, then
Betty hauled herself to her feet with the assistance of the armrests.
Jughead grinned. “Oh, so that’s what they’re for.”
Betty turned to smile at him and nearly collapsed; her legs were as limp as
cooked noodles. Jughead grabbed her by the hips, helping her get her balance.
The lights came on and he looked up at her. Betty’s face was flushed and her
lips were red in a way that suggested she’d been biting down on them as she
fought to remain silent through his touches. She stepped out of his path,
reaching for the jacket she’d left on the back of her original seat.
As she leaned forward, Jughead rose and closed in behind her. When Betty
straightened up, Jughead spoke close to her ear.
“What was your favourite part?”
Betty blushed and turned her face to his. “Of the movie?”
“What movie?” He drew his eyebrows together, feigning puzzlement.
She laughed, looking down in embarrassment.
Jughead shrugged, offering no excuse for his blunt question and headed for the
aisle. Before he could start down the stairs, Betty grabbed his hand, stopping
him. She raised herself on her toes to murmur next to his ear.
“My favourite part was when almost nobody showed up to see it and we had the
row to ourselves. I only wish the movies had been longer.” She sighed against
his skin and Jughead felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Well, a good way to lengthen the…” He cleared his throat. “…experience would
be to not say something so mysterious to me that I’m driven to distraction for
the entire first movie.”
Betty stepped around Jughead to look him in the eyes. She was grinning. “It’s
not my fault it took you that long to interpret it. I figured an investigator
for the Blue and Gold would have quicker powers of deduction.”
She pulled his hand, started them down the stairs towards the exit.
Jughead was still hung up on something and narrowed his eyes at Betty, trying
to read her.
“So I did interpret it correctly? You wanted me to unleash my inner beast?” He
lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow. “Dominate you?”
Betty’s smile turned seductive. “Are you sure that’s really what happened,
Juggy? I felt pretty in control. If you really want to dominate me, you’re
going to have to do better than that.” She leaned into him, running a hand up
the back of Jughead’s neck into the lower fringe of his hair, and brought her
mouth to his.
Jughead groaned and reached for her, but without the safety of the darkness,
Betty was reluctant to linger on their kiss and stepped back from him.
“Come on, birthday boy. The night’s still young.” She smiled at him.
He groaned. “Fiiine, but no more double entendres.”
Betty shrugged. “I can’t make any promises.”
They passed under the exit sign and Jughead grinned. Betty turned to him. She
smiled at his expression.
“What?”
“That was a hell of a double-feature.”
***** And Many More *****
                                      II
She had ruined Jughead’s birthday.
Jughead had been relatively upbeat and playful following the unplanned
activities during Animal House that had had Betty on the edge of her
seat—literally as well as figuratively. Well, playful might be too strong of a
word, but it did seem fitting when compared to Jughead’s typically morosely
introspective personality. Betty had developed an irrepressible fondness for
her boyfriend’s melancholy but supportive addition to her otherwise steadfast
but solitary investigative team of one. Jughead was her cynical Watson. Her
sarcastic Sancho Panza. Her Sam Gamgee, if Sam had been the kind of guy who
said things like “I’m not being a pessimist, I’m just being realistic, Frodo,”
every time they hit a bump in the road to Mount Doom.
Jughead had been the other side of Betty’s coin all along—opposite, but
unarguably necessary—but tonight, when she’d found him as eager as she, Betty
had begun to hope. To hope that somehow they were connecting in a way that let
them see past the stereotypes and easy labels they represented in the eyes of
their parents, their teachers, even, disappointingly, their friends. On the way
out of the theatre, Jughead had laughed and held her hand and Betty had thought
that maybe, finally, she could tell him what she really meant about “the beast
within.”
When she called Archie, Betty could have said they wouldn’t be coming over
after all. They’d changed their minds. They’d be later, and when they arrived
could it just be something small? Instead, she was caught up in her post-orgasm
elation and all her plans felt invincible.
Betty felt terrible for had what happened. The party getting out of control put
stress not only on Jughead, but on their relationship. Betty’s secret was
thrown into the open, naked and vulnerable, for everyone to know. She’d been so
disoriented by it that she couldn’t judge which was worse: the shame of being
called out as a psychotic slut or the deep cut of betrayal from the words
Jughead threw at her about them being on “borrowed time.”
Everything felt wrong until Jughead returned for her. In the quiet of their
booth at Pop’s, Betty felt them coming back to each other, though it was
painful and caused her to feel more exposed than she had with Jughead’s hand
down the front of her jeans. She knew they had finally seen one another with
understanding and that, plus the cold of the milkshake glass against the
fingernail slices in her palm, soothed Betty. When they kissed, she felt
Jughead give and ask forgiveness. When they kissed again, Betty’s heart pounded
and her cheeks flushed.
Jughead’s hair was like a pool of dark water, reflecting the diner’s neon glow.
In his eyes was a hunger that Betty knew he was letting her see. The sweeping
line of his lips tasted like sweet vanilla ice cream. Betty saw a way that
Jughead’s birthday could be salvaged, on his own terms. Jughead saw it too,
tugging her out of the booth and settling his jacket around her shoulders as
they stood at the counter. Betty paid, of course. It was his birthday.
He kept an arm around her all the way back to Archie’s house and Betty could
tell how much more at ease Jughead seemed than when they’d walked these same
Riverdale streets in the past. The lawn was strewn with party detritus, but the
house itself was quiet. Of course, they didn’t go inside; Jughead led Betty to
the garage-turned-studio, letting her in ahead of him with a key he extracted
from a pocket of the jacket he’d covered her with earlier and flipping on a low
light.
Betty stood in the garage somewhat nervous, folding Jughead’s denim jacket with
excessive care before leaving it on the back of a chair. She slipped her shoes
off and aligned them neatly beneath the chair. Jughead pulled the door shut and
met her eyes across the room as he flicked the lock. His stare was heavy,
holding Betty in place until she couldn’t feel her legs keeping her up. Jughead
smiled gently at her, but shut in this room with him, every look and action
somehow came across as a little bit sexier, a little more intentional.
Jughead crossed the room, trailing a hand lightly down Betty’s arm as he went
by her. He kicked his shoes off and began pulling blankets, pillows, and
sleeping bags out of a cabinet. Betty automatically started helping him lay
things out. She tried not to think of anything beyond the task at hand, calming
herself by unfolding and straightening each piece of bedding.
Their hands touched as they knelt side by side, unfurling a sleeping bag,
causing Betty to look up at Jughead. Something in his expression told Betty he
was also attempting to remove all possible future connotation from these
sheets, but struggling. Apparently he wasn’t as skilled at denial as Betty was.
Jughead looked at her long enough that Betty started to blush. She put her
hands on her thighs and stared down at them. This worked to relax her for about
a second before she began to recall the sensation of Jughead’s hands there. Her
eyes widened, straining in exasperation at her inability to control her own
thoughts, and she whipped her head around to face Jughead.
“So,” Betty shot out, a little brusquely.
Jughead jerked back from her, surprised, and had to catch himself so he didn’t
tumble over sideways. Betty grabbed for his arm, laughing.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”
Jughead raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s fine. I mean, that’s what they designed
this room for anyway. It’s totally soundproof.” He gestured around them at the
noise-dampening panels on the walls and ceiling. “You can be as loud as you
want in here and nobody’ll hear you.” Jughead looked down and smirked to
himself, making Betty wonder if he’d realized how his words sounded.
She replied with careful deliberateness. “I guess that’s good since I won’t
have the excuse of shouting along to a movie soundtrack this time.”
“Evidently cultivating a life of near-isolation paired with the hobby of
actively hunting down a murderer hasn’t done much for my sense of humour.” He
looked at her sheepishly. “Was it a terrible thing to do?”
Betty shook her head, smiling. “No, but I can’t say I appreciated the
cleverness of it at the time. I was more focused on my sense of touch than
hearing. But in retrospect, I am impressed.” She leaned her shoulder into his.
Jughead shrugged and made an unresolved gesture with his hands, not knowing
quite how to respond. Betty picked up his conversational slack.
“Have you slept out here before?”
Jughead cleared his throat. “Oh, um, yeah. If Archie had Val over after school,
I’d just hang out in here.”
Betty turned to him, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Did she ever
stay over?”
“No idea. But I didn’t hear anything if she did.” He laughed.
Betty assessed the pile of blankets they had amassed before them. “Does this
room get very cold?”
“What?” Jughead looked at her with a confused expression and she tossed a
pillow into his lap. “Oh, no. They’re actually pretty careful about regulating
the temperature in here for Archie’s guitars. Obviously Mr. Andrews could have
just told Archie not to leave any instruments lying around, but it looks like
he wasn’t willing to make that gamble on Archie’s memory skills.”
Betty laughed, but raised her eyebrows at Jughead. “If it’s not going to be
cold, why are we laying out all this stuff?”
She watched his fingers dig into the pillow she’d given him. He stared fixedly
at it as though he were looking into a deep well.
“Honestly, Betty, I needed to give my hands something to do so I wouldn’t just
start trying to take your clothes off.” Jughead looked at Betty nervously out
of the corner of his eye, before slowly turning to face her.
Betty was speechless as she mentally weighed the two options that sprang to
mind: one, sit still and compose herself until she thought of something
reasonable to say, or two, throw herself into Jughead’s arms.
“I am touched by your Jughead-esque sweater, Betts, but I’d rather look at it
over…” He made a frame with his fingers, closing one eye and scanning the room
like a photographer on location. “…there.” Jughead stopped, having selected a
purely random spot, and nodded once. Then he turned to Betty, grasped her
around the waist and pulled her to him.
She moaned into his mouth as he quickly pressed his tongue against hers.
Jughead embraced her eagerness, pushing himself back onto the blankets in a
sitting position. Betty scrambled after him, parting her legs to climb onto
Jughead’s lap and straddle him.
As Jughead worked his mouth against hers, Betty felt his hands fall from her
waist to the hem of the sweater he had lately praised, tucking his fingers
underneath and pulling it up. She sat back, raising her arms as he removed her
outer layer.
Jughead gathered the sweater in his hands and aimed at the chair where Betty
had set down his jacket. He tossed it.
He looked into her eyes, his smile creeping up on one side. “Now, isn’t that
better?”
Betty’s eyelids lowers and she pulled herself forward to bring their hips
together. “Much,” she replied, dropping her lips to brush along Jughead’s neck
as she slipped her hands up under the hem of his t-shirt and pressed her palms
to his skin.
Jughead exhaled in a pant and Betty felt the press of his swelling cock beneath
her. She took advantage of having caught him off guard, rubbing herself against
him and moving her hands to his shoulders, ready to push off the plaid shirt he
wore open over his tee.
Jughead’s hands jumped up to close around her wrists. Betty looked surprised,
so he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.
“Not so fast. You said yourself that you got plenty of control back at the
Bijou. It’s not your turn anymore, Betts.”
The muscles of Betty’s thighs clenched responsively on either side of Jughead’s
hips as she felt the effects of the lust in his voice reverberate at her core.
“I think what I said was that our activities there could beinterpreted as me…”
Jughead was shaking his head. “Even if you could linguistically worm your way
back through whatever loophole you’re working on, you’d only regret it.”
He released her wrists and Betty draped her arms around the back of his neck,
tilting her head playfully. “How do you know that?”
Jughead caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking unwaveringly
into her eyes. “Because in all the times I’ve imagined bringing you in here
with no one to see, hear, or interrupt us, you never told me to stop.”
Betty’s heart leapt and suddenly the world was turning without her on it, as
Jughead clasped her tightly against him and laid her back on the blankets. She
was so aroused by his words, so ready to be touched, but he withheld it from
her. Instead, Jughead kneeled in the space between her parted thighs, shrugging
off the plaid shirt Betty had been about to rid him of. He flung it away and
grasped the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up his torso.
Betty could have died right then. She felt like she’d stepped into the
fantastic unreality of a men’s cologne ad as Jughead’s body was revealed. She
raised herself up on her elbows, irresistibly drawn to the surprisingly
muscular physique Jughead had camouflaged with loose-fitting shirts, sweaters,
and jackets.
Before she could sit up, however, Jughead’s hand reached for her shoulder,
pressing her firmly back to horizontal. Betty’s heart boomed like a Josie and
the Pussycats bassline as Jughead let his fingers trail across her white shirt,
flipping open the button at her neck.
Unable to keep still, Betty grabbed his arm, pulling Jughead down to kiss her.
The soft wave of his hair brushed her forehead as he indulged her for a few
passionate moments, then propped himself up on one elbow to continue
unbuttoning her shirt with his other hand. Betty could feel the poke of
Jughead’s erection as he leaned into her and she rubbed her legs against the
outside of his hips while he worked at her buttons, his eyes appearing dark and
narrowed in concentration.
Releasing the last button, Jughead smoothed his hand across the skin of Betty’s
chest, just below her collarbone, pushing her cotton shirt open. With a shaking
hand, Betty guided Jughead’s palm lower, until it was covering her breast. His
eyes, trained on her chest, flicked up to meet hers and Betty nudged her hips
up to press into his.
He held her stare as he tugged the cup of her bra down, making space to mold
his hand around her breast. The warmth of Jughead’s palm on Betty’s already
peaked nipple made her thrust her chest into his grasp. He began circling her
nipple with his thumb and lowered his head to kiss down her sternum. Jughead’s
mouth took over for his fingers, licking across her breast. His shifted onto
his opposite elbow—his hips bumping hers as he moved, making him groan
softly—pulling down her bra on the other side as well, and squeezing his
fingers into the plump skin of her breast.
Betty slid her hands up under Jughead’s arms, stretching around his back to run
her fingers down his spine. He bucked against her, then dropped his weight onto
her, giving up any pretense of restraint to press their unclothed torsos
together. She heard him inhale sharply before finding her mouth with his,
kissing her forcefully.
Betty straightened one leg so Jughead could roll onto his side. He gripped the
underside of her thigh, draping her bent knee over his hip and maneuvering his
upper leg forward until his thigh was pushed right up between Betty’s legs. She
rubbed against him, but felt only frictionless constraint thanks to her skin-
tight jeans. Betty moved her hand down Jughead’s toned back, running her palm
over his ribs before reaching down to undo the button of her jeans.
Again, Jughead’s quick grip came out to stop her. He caught her hand in his
and, shaking his head slowly, said, “I’ve got this, Betts.”
Betty extricated her fingers from his, smoothing her hand up to his chest, as
she felt the pressure of Jughead’s fingers on the outside of her jeans, working
her zipper down.
Jughead was in familiar territory now and slipped his fingers beneath the band
of her panties immediately. As his fingers moved lower, Betty’s muscles
contracted sharply, remembering his touch from earlier that evening. Jughead
pressed her clit under the end of one finger, rubbing roughly, and Betty shook
against him, not having expected it.
Suddenly, Jughead withdrew his fingers, bringing both hands to Betty’s hips. He
reach under the waist of her jeans to give himself leverage and dragged them
slowly and deliberately from her hips, along with her underwear.
Feeling the eagerness that radiated from her boyfriend, Betty deepened their
kiss, only to be denied by Jughead, who pressed a hand to her stomach, forcing
her onto her back. He got onto his knees, yanking her jeans down her legs and
pulling their narrow opening carefully over her ankles. Jughead unfastened his
own jeans and Betty could see his erection bowing the front of his boxers.
He stopped there, apparently just trying to make himself more comfortable, and
leaned back over Betty. Jughead slipped a hand under her back, letting her up
enough that her open shirt hung back towards the blanketed floor. He pushed the
fabric from her shoulders, one at a time, and Betty saw him swallow hard as her
shirt slipped back to rest in the crooks of her arms. He reached around and
unhooked her bra, letting it loop loosely below her breasts.
Gently, Jughead drew Betty up onto her knees towards him, but before she could
wrap her arms around his neck, he stood.
Betty followed him with her eyes as her shirtless boyfriend circled around to
stand behind her. He looked down at her, smirking, as she openly studied the
muscles of his chest and shoulders.
“Keep your eyes forward and trust me, Betty. Like at the theatre.”
There was something in his sly smile that Betty implicitly did not trust and
she gazed at him intently, as though she might be able to read his coming
actions in his eyes like a crystal ball. Jughead’s smile widened when Betty
appeared reluctant to do as he’d asked. Rather than giving in, he stared her
down until Betty forced herself to look away, only because she figured
otherwise he was never going to touch her and she was getting impatient.
Jughead put a hand on her shoulder as he kneeled down behind her. Betty fought
the instinct to lean back into him. His hand traveled up the back of her neck,
making Betty shiver, though the room was warm, as he had promised, even with
her mostly naked. Jughead worked his fingers under the tight loop of her
elastic, intentionally snapping it so that her hair fell from her ponytail,
untwisting as it settled to brush above her shoulders. He tunneled his fingers
into her hair, making Betty’s scalp tingle pleasantly.
Jughead leaned in close to let his lips touch her ear.
“I love seeing your hair free like this.”
Betty turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Says the boy who always wears a hat.”
Betty smiled smugly as Jughead’s face withdrew and laughed a second later as he
sent his hat sailing over her head to land across the room.
“Does this mean I’m controlling your actions now?”
Jughead’s mouth brushed against the side of her neck.
“Not so fast, Betty.”
Placing his hands on her bare shoulders, Jughead stroked down her upper arms
until he reached the sleeves of her shirt. He pushed it the rest of the way
off, the straps of her bra coming down with it. Betty saw him toss her shirt
carefully off to the side. Her bra flopped into her lap and his hand came
around her waist to retrieve it.
Once Betty’s bra was also flung away, Jughead’s hand returned to her lap,
pressing between her closed thighs to hold her wet center against his palm. He
rubbed briskly at her clit, making Betty cry out, before stretching his fingers
down to feel for her opening.
Betty heard him fumbling with his other hand behind her back and tensed as the
weight of his extracted cock slanted against her lower back. He pushed himself
against her, slowly running his fingertips around her entrance until Betty
thought she would go insane.
She couldn’t stop herself. Betty covered Jughead’s hand with her own and forced
him to insert the finger he was using to toy with her. She moaned and Jughead
nudged his dick against her back reflexively.
Easing off her death grip on his hand, Betty felt Jughead take over, hooking
his finger to find her g-spot.
“You gotta learn to give up some of that control, Betts,” Jughead said, moving
in even closer so that she could feel his heart pounding as his chest came in
contact with her back.
Annoyed, Betty pushed her hips back, pinning Jughead’s erection to his abdomen
and grinding against him.
“Well, maybe you should learn not to make me wait,” she said with forced
sweetness.
Jughead laughed before he replied—not the reaction Betty was expecting, and she
drew her eyebrows together, frowning.
“Ok, Betty. I’m willing to compromise.”
Betty shook her head in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“Fast from here on out.”
Jughead’s finger slipped out of her and he grasped Betty tightly by the hips,
one of his hands gooey against her skin. He tugged her hips back towards him,
putting her off balance so that Betty was forced to touch her hands to the
floor. She heard him shuffling around and looked back over her shoulder to see
Jughead standing, shoving his jeans and boxers together down his legs. Betty
felt her face heat as she took in Jughead’s nude form. He narrowed his eyes at
her, but she could tell he was embarrassed under her stare. Betty didn’t look
away though; she figured she was doing enough to play by his rules by remaining
on hands and knees.
He pulled off his socks and got back onto his knees behind her.
“Thorough.” Betty let out a laugh, turning to face forward.
Jughead tapped a finger thoughtfully on her back.
“Did you want me to leave them on?” he teased. “If anything had stayed, it
would’ve been the hat.”
“So why don’t you—”
“Sorry, Betts. Gotta keep our pace up.”
Betty jumped as she felt Jughead aligning the head of his cock with her
entrance. She had only felt his hand there twice—both that same day—but her
pulse pounded instinctively between her legs, telling Betty her body knew how
to anticipate something her sharp mind didn’t.
Jughead’s hand rested on her lower back as he eased himself inside. His palm
was damp. Betty breathed deeply, relaxing her muscles as much as she could.
Even so, she heard Jughead’s breath catch as he pressed into her and he
smoothed his hand up and down her back as though calming himself with the
repetitive motion. His other hand took a different tactic, clenching around her
hip, anchoring them together as, suddenly, Jughead surged forward, pushing all
the way in.
Betty shuffled her knees further apart, allowing Jughead to move forward and
stabilize his position. As she shifted, the muscles holding Jughead’s erection
clenched and the two of them moaned in unison. The low noise Jughead made
caused Betty’s arousal to leap, sending more liquid to coat his cock as he
began gently rocking forward and back.
Her wetness and Jughead’s measured movements gave Betty plenty of time to
adjust—enough that when Jughead suddenly pulled himself most of the way out and
plunged back in, Betty could only gasp at the pleasure and pant out, “Juggy!”
He obviously enjoyed his new pace and more forceful thrusts because after that,
Jughead didn’t deviate from driving into her with a snap of his hips each time.
Clearly in his element dominating the action, Jughead maintained a firm grasp
of her hip, until his curiosity and fully awakened sex drive led him to bring
his hand back between Betty legs and wet her clit with the overflow of her
arousal.
What might have been an awkward or embarrassing first encounter for Betty was
instead freeing and immersive; without Jughead’s serious gaze assessing her
every reaction, Betty shoved her hips back against his eagerly and made no
attempt to muffle the cries she emitted as a result. With her hair swinging
forward over her shoulders, her eyes squeezed shut in primal appreciate of
Jughead’s efforts, and noises she’d never made—even when alone—spilling from
her mouth, Betty truly felt she was channeling “the beast within.”
Panting roughly, Jughead pulled out of her, reaching for Betty and guiding her
down onto her back now. Betty felt suddenly exposed, but one look into his face
told her Jughead was still in a more instinctual frame of mind. His eyes were
hot as they stared down at her and he moved to position himself again between
her legs, jerking inside to Betty’s encouraging body language. Jughead’s mouth
found her neck and he worked at bruising it enough to keep Betty in collared
shirts for at least a week.
When he bit down, Betty brought her legs up on either side of his hips. Jughead
moved his elbows in closer to Betty for balance as he pounded into her more
forcefully, pinning her arms to her sides in a way she could tell was
intentional by the lazy smirk on his face when Jughead lifted his head from her
neck.
Reading the vexation plain in Betty’s expression, Jughead decided to torture
her. He slowed his thrusts so that he could change the angle of his hips,
rubbing his rough, dark hair across her clit with every forward pulse.
Betty’s legs quivered uncontrollably and she dug her nails into the blanket she
lay on to save her already scored palms. Jughead kept smiling, but bit his lip
in concentration as he made sure he was pressing her clit before jerking
sharply back and forth, stimulating her inside and out.
Betty pounded her fists into the unresisting plushness of their impromptu bed
and cried out in a mix of pleasure and crushing frustration until Jughead,
shocked, freed her arms. She slung them around his neck, pulling his mouth down
to her and pushing inside with her tongue. Betty felt his cock twitch in
response and lifted her feet off the ground, wrapping her legs around Jughead’s
hips.
He pressed his lips roughly to hers, working against her mouth until Betty
tipped her head back, panting. Jughead kissed down her throat, taking just
enough care not to bang the top of his head into her jaw when he drove up into
her. He wound his arm under her neck, propping her up, and slid the other down
over her breasts, pausing to pluck at her nipples. Betty ground against him
when his hips met hers to show her gratitude.
Jughead smoothed his hand over Betty’s ribcage, slipping around the side to
trace the curve of her waist. An appreciative hum next to her ear was all
Jughead could manage, his firm, hungry strokes taking the breath from both of
them.
His palm slid over the fullness of her hip and up the underside of her thigh,
where Jughead dug his fingers into her skin. Betty gasped and bucked against
him, but Jughead shushed her.
“Nobody’ll see the marks here, Betts.” He shifted to hold his face just above
hers, their noses rubbing as he drilled into her. “Nobody’ll know but me.”
Her face already hot with arousal, Betty felt her cheeks flush further as she
saw the blatant lust in Jughead’s eyes at the thought of leaving this secret,
temporary mark on her body.
The idea seemed to spur him on and Jughead squeezed her thigh, lengthening his
strokes. Betty’s shallow panting became a steady gasping noise that fuzzed her
ears as Jughead’s nudges against her clit fuzzed her nerves.
As Betty’s arousal climbed and Jughead’s cock stroked her g-spot more
persuasively with each pass, her legs clenched around his hips. The next
moment, her muscles seemed to lock of their own accord and Betty arched up
against Jughead, crying out so wildly she wouldn’t have known it was she who
made the sound if she hadn’t felt it escape from her own throat.
His hands moved from her leg and neck, both fumbling to grip her shoulders from
underneath. His eyes clamped shut, but Jughead pressed the side of his face to
Betty’s, groaning and panting out “Betty… uh… Betts!” as he climaxed.
He shook against her, tentatively opening his eyes. He blinked hard and took a
deep breath, easing out of Betty and rolling onto his side. Jughead pulled her
over with him and the overwhelmed tears that had pooled in Betty’s eyes poured
out and slipped across her face. Jughead smiled at her and kissed her firmly on
the forehead, then let out an exhaustive sigh, dropping onto his back.
Betty couldn’t keep the smile from her face, snuggling in close to Jughead as
he wrapped an arm around her. She slipped her arm over him, feeling her way
across his chest to cup his far shoulder.
He smirked back at her, the way he did when he knew Betty was about to tell him
something good.
“What?”
“It’s my turn next time.”
“Oh come on!” he yelled, making Betty laugh. “It’s still my birthday!”
Betty rolled her eyes. “It’s way past midnight, Juggy.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s my birthday until one of us looks at the
time and can confirm it to be otherwise.”
Betty started to roll away from him, but Jughead pulled her back.
“Not yet.” His blue-green eyes looked into hers earnestly.
“Ok,” she said.
In a while, Jughead kicked at the top blanket enough that they could get under
it without him having to actually use his hands. When Betty laughed at his
laziness, Jughead frowned and replied that it was his day off. She settled in
against him, the warmth of his body pulling her quickly into short lapses of
sleep. Whenever she awoke, Jughead was looking at the ceiling with a smile on
his face. Sometimes, she kept still, listening to his breathing in their
soundproofed sanctuary. Once, he had rolled over to face her and Betty could
feel the light touch of his fingers running through her hair. He whispered
against her temple that he loved her, and Betty’s heart squeezed with emotion.
Eventually, she woke up to find him asleep, his wide lips parted and his arm
stretched out sideways. Betty slipped away from him, pulling on her clothes.
Jughead groaned and rolled towards her, catching Betty around the hips as she
laced her shoes.
“Still my birthday,” he mumbled against her back.
“Ok, Juggy,” she said gently. “But I have to go home now.”
Jughead sighed, slumping against her, but kicked the blanket back and sat up.
Naturally, Betty looked over at him, Jughead’s toned muscles and narrow hips
more visible now that the sky was edging towards dawn. He raised an eyebrow
when he caught her looking.
“Voyeur,” he accused.
“Only on the nights you leave the blind up when you’re changing.”
Jughead put on a shocked expression. “You wouldn’t.”
“I went through a real bird-watching phase when I was a kid. Got a great pair
of binoculars for Christmas one year.” Betty winked at him.
Jughead shook his head at her as Betty got to her feet. “Shocking.”
She laughed and reached out a hand to him. “Come on, Juggy. You can walk me
home.”
He settled his jacket back on Betty’s shoulders, wrapping a sleeping bag around
his own. Outside, it trailed the ground behind him, leaving a path in the
frost.
Jughead took her as far as the foot of the ladder leading up to her window.
Betty stepped onto the first wrung then spun around, locking her hands behind
Jughead’s neck and kissing him deeply.
When she pulled back, Jughead’s hot sigh steamed the cold air.
“Happy Birthday, Juggy.”
“And many more.” He looked at her suggestively and Betty knew he didn’t mean
birthdays.
She ascended the ladder, stumbling into her room on shaky legs, then turned to
look out the window as Jughead made his way back across the street.
“Jughead!” she hissed, her voice echoing in the early morning stillness.
He turned, tilting his head up in the direction of her window.
“What?” he hissed back.
“I love you!”
Betty could see the smile spread across Jughead’s face.
“What?”
She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he had heard her. “Oh come on!” she
hissed.
“What?” Betty could see his shoulders shaking the sleeping bag as he laughed.
“I can’t hear you. Tell me tomorrow!”
She nodded, smiling, and Jughead headed back towards the Andrews’ place.
===============================================================================
 Jughead took his time packing all of the bedding away, breathing in the scent
Betty’s body had left behind. Then he entered through the back door of the
house, trying to be quiet since he knew Archie would probably be suffering
through last night’s beverage choices this morning. Well, he’d be quiet until
he’d enjoyed a cup of coffee, then he might pound up the stairs and bang a
couple of frying pans together over Archie’s head. Just for the hell of it.
Just as a little birthday present to himself.
Jughead settled into a comfortable chair in the front room, smiling over his
mug of coffee and thinking about birthday presents. Nothing was going to top
Betty’s. His heart raced, thinking about her curled up in bed just across the
street. He couldn’t wait to hold her close to him again.
Jughead let his mind drift, settling into an unusual bubble of total happiness.
It wasn’t until Veronica reached the bottom of the stairs that the sound of her
descending feet signified anything in Jughead’s mind. They exchanged a few
uncomfortable sentences before Veronica made a break for it.
On a normal day, this encounter may have bothered Jughead, but at dawn,
following his most enjoyable birthday ever, he just sighed and internally
thanked Archie for his newfound musical obsession, Mr. Andrews for doing such a
bang-up job with the soundproofing, and Betty Cooper for showing him the beast
within.
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