
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13956825.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Riverdale_(TV_2017)
  Relationship:
      Betty_Cooper/Jughead_Jones
  Character:
      Betty_Cooper, Jughead_Jones
  Additional Tags:
      bughead_-_Freeform, Romance, Friendship, Diverges_from_canon_starting_the
      day_after_Bughead's_first_time, Chic's_come_and_gone_again, which_means
      Polly's_old_room_is_free_for_a_new_house_guest, Alice_lets_Jughead_stay
      because_she_doesn't_know_Bughead_are_back_together, sneaky_looks, plenty
      o'_feels, stealthy_late-night_escapades, Betty_Cooper_Loves_Jughead_Jones
  Series:
      Part 20 of Bughead_Stories
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-13 Words: 3462
****** Here to Stay ******
by ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary
     Originally posted on Fanfiction.net. Bughead's first time was finally
     canon as of S2E12, so naturally I asked, "what about their second
     time?" While the Southsiders aren't being booted from their homes for
     good, the stupid intricacies of bureaucracy dictate that Jughead will
     need a place to crash for a couple of days. Lucky for him, Betty's
     convinced that it's time the Coopers welcomed a new house guest.
     Shamelessly lovey.
“It’s called saving face, Betty, and I’m not surprised.”
“I just can’t believe that after all that, after we found the bronze head, made
them accept that you were innocent, you know,” she gestured, “cleared the good
names of your friends and neighbours, that Mayor McCoy could still force
everyone out of their homes.”
“It’s only for a couple of days.” Jughead smiled at her and she could tell that
he had relief to spare. It hadn’t been an uncontested win, but it was
something. What the two of them had won was something more.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay somewhere with your dad?” With her
boyfriend’s return to her so fresh, Betty wanted to brace herself against any
unpredictability that might be on the horizon, if that were ever really
possible to do.
“Honestly, the memory of him telling me that everything was my fault, that I
was ‘bringing down the Temple’ or whatever, it’s a little too fresh,” Jughead
replied. “Is your mom going to be ok with this?” he added as they stepped up to
the Coopers’ front door.
“Aaabsolutely not,” Betty replied with a smile, taking his hand and pulling him
inside after her.
It turned out asking wasn’t enough for her mother. Betty had assumed it
wouldn’t be, which was why she’d brought Jughead in the flesh, to make her plea
tougher to turn down. Of course, there was also the fact that Alice had never
really warmed to the idea of Jughead as Betty’s boyfriend… which was why the
couple was keeping the fact that they’d gotten back together to themselves for
now. The angle Betty was trying to work here was ‘Unfairly Slandered Young
Journalist Seeks Shelter Following Mayoral Exoneration,’ not ‘Guy I Lost My
Virginity to Last Night Wants to Stay in Room across Hall from Mine.’ Naturally
(for Alice), maternal doubts were nevertheless expressed―with Jughead still in
the room―which was when Betty played her trump card: that her mother had so
lately allowed Chic to stay with them, and didn’t they all know and trust
Jughead more than they had their estranged family member? Could her mother
really, ethically, deny shelter to a person who, the mayor and the Sheriff
finally agreed, was doing more to heal the town’s wounds than inflict new ones?
Finally, she could see her mother’s resolve weakening, could see defeat behind
her eyes. This was the very woman who had taught Betty not to back down during
this moment in a confrontation, but to find her second wind. To appeal to
Alice’s career-centric pride, Betty tacked on that Jughead was an admirable
journalist and that putting him up for a couple of days was the noble thing to
do, supporting freedom of the press, hell, democracy! By that point, she had
really hit her stride; she couldn’t pause to be curious about what her
boyfriend must be thinking, standing just behind her. Her mother half-heartedly
suggested that he could stay with the Andrews, but Betty argued that they’d
done plenty for Jughead and it was someone else’s turn. Alice seemed to want to
counter, so Betty fixed her with a defiant look and just said in a reprimanding
tone, “Mom.” And that was that. The Coopers had a new housemate.
While there was still plenty of strong daylight in Polly’s/Chic’s/Jughead’s
room―and with the door wide open―the pair of them made up his bed and moved in
the few possessions that were all he’d said he’d need to sustain him during his
short visit.
“Wow,” Betty started, “this has to be one of the first times you’ve come
through our front door.”
“Rather than the window.”
“Mhmm,” she said thoughtfully, wanting to flop down on the bed, but all too
aware of the high chance of her mother showing up to ‘lend a hand,’ or some
other excuse to explain her obvious desire to spy on them. Sure, it might have
been warranted, considering that, since the previous night, Betty hadn’t
thought of much besides Jughead’s skin against hers. She felt her face flushing
and fluffed the end of the duvet, attempting to draw attention away from
herself. Glancing at Jughead, she didn’t think he could really be that
oblivious. He was staring straight back at her.
Soon enough (too soon for Betty), calls to and from Jughead’s fellow Serpents
regarding short-term plans for their living situations distracted him.
Repeating the conversation she’d had with her mother all over again with her
father distracted her. Then there was lunch, together, but in the kitchen. Too
public to make any suggestive movement, or even allude to what Betty would’ve
guessed was both of their new favourite memory. The afternoon they spent in the
living room, roughing out ideas for a story that they may or may not publish in
the Blue and Gold regarding the handling of the Pickens statue affair. Would it
be possible to do the story without coming down too obviously on the
administration for their apparent targeting of lower income Southsiders? Which
perspective had they not thought to cover? Perhaps they could make it a real
community piece and test the waters for opinions on what should be done with
the rest of the statue (remain decapitated, receive restoration, or be
relegated to the fouler pages of Riverdale’s history)? Betty’s mom was calling
her and Jughead for dinner before she realized that they’d spent all day
together. When was the last time that had happened? As she helped her mother
carry dishes of vegetables to the table, Betty smiled privately to herself.
Eventually, inevitably, it was night. Jughead got ready for bed in his room,
Betty in hers. They said goodnight to each other with nothing more than polite
friendliness when they passed each other in the hallway, going to and coming
from brushing their teeth. It was possible that she felt more than a little
something when his gaze raced over the light pajamas she was wearing. She
would’ve had to have been blind not to stare at the way his white tank shaped
to his upper body and showed his arms. As soon as Betty saw her mother’s blonde
head pop back into her parents’ bedroom, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Jughead was lingering in the doorway of his room, watching her with evocative
eyes. She pulled the door of the bathroom shut slowly, then silently, joyfully
squealed to her reflection in the mirror above the sink, her giddiness making
her feet tap up and down on the fluffy mat. He was really here with her.
When she went back to her room, her mother entered almost immediately. Looking
totally calm and innocent was a challenge, yet not impossible; Betty had been
training like an Olympian all her life to perform humble docility. Questionable
whether Alice believed it as readily as she had in the past though. Betty had
put up quite a fight earlier to make her allow Jughead into their home. It was
clear that, ultimately, her mother had decided to trust her. The proof being
that Alice Cooper, forbidder of locked doors, instructed Betty to lock hers
tonight. Wanting to laugh, Betty instead assured her mother that she would,
while also telling her with her mannerisms that such a concern was ridiculous.
She and Jughead were just friends. The back of her pajama top lifted as Betty
tucked her fingers above the hem to cross them out of sight of her mother.
Well, I’m all locked in, Betty texted Jughead from her bed ten minutes later,
covers up and lights off.
Did she throw away the key?
I’m sure she would have if my door locked from the outside.
There’s always the window, Juliet, Jughead replied.
Betty felt her heartrate speed up and held her phone to her chest, wishing he
was climbing through that window right now. They’d been close to each other all
day, but touches had been short and either accidental or made to look that way.
There could be no doubt that a repeat of last night was inevitable, at least
Betty thought so, the only question was when. Should they risk it while he was
staying here? Was it even fathomable that they wouldn’t? Betty had never felt
so tempted by anything in her life.
Are you tired? he asked when she didn’t immediately respond.
Tired of solitary confinement, maybe…
I think we could figure something out, Jughead sent back, making Betty grin.
Yeah? A breakout?
How about a break-in?
I’m intrigued.
10 seconds.
What?
9…
Betty realized Jughead was counting down and flung back her blankets, setting
her phone distractedly on her bedside table. She scurried to the door without
finding socks or slippers, hoping it would make her steps fleeter and quieter.
Her parents tended to either not sleep at all or to fall asleep faster than
seemed humanly possible. As she unlocked and eased the door ajar, Betty was
hoping they were doing the latter tonight. Jughead was already standing there
and darted through. As fast as she could, Betty shut the door and relocked it.
It took a deep breath for her to be able to turn around and face Jughead in the
near-dark of her bedroom.
“I was thinking,” he whispered, “that we should’ve had a secret knock or
something.”
Betty felt herself smiling.
“They might have heard that.”
“Right,” Jughead agreed. She could see him nodding. “Yeah, of course.” He
inched closer to her, running his hand up the outside of her arm. Betty’s palm
found his chest, his heartbeat shouting from inside. “I missed you,” he rushed
out and pulled her body against his as he suddenly kissed her. From one second
to the next, she felt warm all over. Jughead’s arms were around her, hands
shaping to the small of her back, then grabbing up higher as he held her to
him. They swayed and stumbled in Betty’s direction, causing her to bump softly
into the closed door. That made them break their kiss, eyes wide with alarm as
they stood still and listened hard, Betty still wrapped up in Jughead’s
embrace. There was no noise from the rest of the house, but even so they moved
away from the door and snuck across the carpet on tiptoe like children.
Betty laid down first, automatically, almost forgetting, until Jughead climbed
in and laid half on top of her. His body heat under the covers was intense, but
it was a problem he seemed committed to resolving as he began to unbutton
Betty’s pajama top. She’d learned just last night how keen he was to remove her
clothes himself and it was a piece of information she treasured, already almost
panting against his neck as he flicked the last button open and pushed the
sides of her top lazily apart to bare her skin. Actually making contact seemed
to render him shier. Luckily, the gentle tracing of Jughead’s fingertips felt
exquisite, peaking Betty’s nipples to meet his touch when it came breezing over
the curve of her breast. She shivered, pulling him down by the back of his neck
to kiss across her chest. The feel of his tongue sweeping around each nipple in
turn elicited Betty’s first moan, muffled into the back of her hand. He
continued and she started to wriggle, back refusing to stay flat on the
mattress, hands jumping between tugging on his thick black hair and her own
blonde strands. His palm landed on her stomach―maybe to calm her? His intention
wasn’t clear―where it warmed her skin as Jughead shifted, kissing leisurely up
her neck. Betty sighed contentedly and began to roll onto her side, wanting to
curl against her boyfriend. Suddenly, there was firm pressure to her stomach,
Jughead’s hand urging her to stay put as he teased her lips into a deep kiss.
Betty felt liquid, pliant, prepared to swoon when his tongue pushed into her
mouth. What she wasn’t prepared for was the way his palm then stroked straight
down her body, slipped under the waistband of her pajama bottoms, and his
fingers bent to cup her between her legs.
Now, Betty trembled seismically and closed her eyes, knowing Jughead had
discovered her wetness when he pulled his mouth from hers and groaned into her
hair. She bit at her lip, fighting some kind of aroused paralysis as his
fingers slid against her. A memory of spreading thick icing on the cake she’d
made for his sixteenth birthday played in her mind. Opening her eyes like she
was coming around from a fainting spell, Betty felt sideways for her
boyfriend’s body. Impatiently, she grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking it
up over his stomach, where she lightly scraped her nails. He gasped and
abruptly pinched her clit between finger and thumb, by the feel of it, so Betty
stuffed her hand down his loose bottoms and grasped his rigid erection. Bucking
himself against her hip, Jughead swore, but kept his hands careful on her body.
Betty relaxed her hold on him, rubbing the incomplete circle of her fingers
steadily up and down, feeling how he throbbed against her palm. His fingers
twisted her clit experimentally and Betty kissed him, rough and eager, to ask
for more. Rather than slip his fingers into her entrance, as he’d done the
night before, Jughead kept playing with her clit, dragging it, agitating it,
cautiously grinding it under the heel of his hand. Betty lost her rhythm,
unable to do more than prevent herself from squeezing his cock too tightly. She
was oven-hot now as Jughead raised himself up on his elbow to lean over her,
biting at her nipple. With writhing hips and shaking legs, Betty begged Jughead
using only one word: “Please.” She was clutching at the back of his neck,
fisting his hair to make him understand that her need was desperate.
He pulled out of her grip, lifting the blankets away from her as he got up on
all fours, his fingers constantly petting between her thighs though she could
no longer reciprocate as he moved away. Betty was too busy just trying to
breathe to ask questions and anyway, Jughead didn’t leave her in suspense very
long. Tunneling deeper into the bed, he nudged her legs apart with his knees
and took his hand off her to yank her pajamas off, pressing his tongue to her
swollen clit. He sucked hard and Betty’s back arched. She could feel warm,
tortured tears running into her hair and fought to keep the struggling sounds
of her pleasure from escaping her mouth. Her fingers closed around the corner
of her pillow in a death grip. It was too much to bear.
“Please, Juggy,” Betty hissed as he clipped her clit with his teeth. “Please…
fingers…” she implored, longer for that more profound pleasure of pressure to
her g-spot, her hips slanting to seek what wasn’t there. He paused, hot breath
feeling almost cool on her overstimulated center.
“The only thing I want you to feel inside you tonight is my dick,” he murmured,
lightly kissing her clit. Betty let out a choked sob.
“Now, Jughead. Right now.”
His head raised and he repositioned himself until he was entirely suspended
over her, twirling her hair in his fingers. Betty grabbed his hips, guiding
them down to hers with a manic certainty that letting him feel her arousal
seeping through his pajamas would persuade him to get inside her all the
faster. Unrestrainedly, he grunted, then kissed her, allowing Betty to peel his
tank up and off of him. Jughead pulled off his bottoms himself, bouncing the
mattress as he kicked them away from tangling around his ankles, but Betty
halted him before he could push into her. Shouldering against him in an
inelegant dance, Betty managed to exchange their positions so that Jughead
dropped onto his back and she ended up above, legs caught up with his. She
laughed―she couldn’t really tell why―and he stared up at her adoringly,
brushing her hair out of her face with a tender hand.
“What happened to ‘right now’?” he asked quietly, smirking.
“I want to try something first,” she explained.
Betty scooted south and Jughead grabbed her knees.
“Oh no, Betty, you don’t―”
“Let me have my turn,” she whispered with a sly smile.
He let go, chest rising and falling heavily. When Betty judged that she was in
a good spot, she placed both palms on that heaving chest of his and caressed
down his body, hungrily tracing his muscles, rejoicing in this moment of just
feeling him, just having access to the guy of her dreams. Below his navel, her
palms lifted away and only her fingertips remained to stroke the inner V of his
hips. She told herself she could do it, she could be as much his fantasy as he
was hers. As soon as her fingers left off, she closed her hand once more around
Jughead’s straining length and lowered her mouth to accept the first couple of
inches. At his side, she saw his hand clutch the bedsheet. Betty drew back,
gently curling her tongue, then plunged back down a little further. Jughead’s
hand closed into a fist.
“Now, Betty. Please,” he gasped. Betty gradually released him from her mouth.
“Right now?” she teased, not sure if she was mocking him or herself.
Jughead pushed himself up on his elbows and shuffled backwards towards the
wall. Betty crawled after him and he adjusted the covers, then reached over to
the other side of her bed for her second pillow, stuffing it behind his back.
Propped up, he watched her with a self-satisfied smirk. Frankly, it made Betty
feel a little self-conscious.
“Close your eyes,” she requested, finally shrugging out of her open pajama top.
Jughead let out a suffering sigh, but obeyed.
Under no one’s gaze but her own now, Betty straddled Jughead’s hips, bringing
her knees in close on either side. She glanced at his handsome face and leaned
forward to kiss his cheek. His hands smoothed up her back and dug pleasantly
into her hair. Incapable of resisting, Betty kissed him on the mouth and while
Jughead cradled the back of her head, finding her tongue with his own, she
grasped his cock and eased down on it. She felt him hiccup his breath, then
dive back into the kiss groaning as she wiggled on his lap, the wetness he’d
coaxed from her now slicking her path. Betty began to raise and lower herself
shallowly, stomach muscles jumping. Jughead gathered her hair up in one hand
and with the other, greedily fondled her breast. She tilted her face back from
his, panting. Hands stumbling up to hold his shoulders, Betty began to ride him
harder, hips snapping down and angling to scratch her most erotic itch. She
rocked faster when Jughead’s hips thrust sharply upward, putting even more
force into every connection. The feeling was raw and sensual and Betty parted
her knees to mount him more loosely, gliding her fingers towards his face,
cupping his cheek and dragging his lip under her thumb. Both of Jughead’s hands
went to her hips, superfluously guiding her. Betty moved one of them to her
abdomen and smiled a sloppy pleasured smile when he lowered it to rub harshly
at her clit.
With nowhere else for her energy to go, Betty climaxed, head falling back with
a satisfied groan. Jughead’s arms closed around her and he heaved her over onto
her back without pulling out. Raising weak knees to bracket his hips, Betty let
her bent arms float around her head as she watched Jughead pound into her. The
primal forward drive of his hips, the bold, possessive way he looked into her
eyes, his smell… Betty felt another blip of aftershock orgasm when Jughead
released inside of her with a low growl. He laid his weight carefully onto
Betty, embracing her so that their chests rose and fell together and their
hearts hammered back and forth like Rock ’Em Sock ‘Em Robots.
“Holy shit, Betts,” he breathed. “You’re stuck with me now.”
She rubbed his back, then took both his hands in hers as he rolled off of her.
“You’re ok, right?” he asked suddenly, letting go of her hands and starting to
sit up.
“Right,” Betty laughed. “Never been better.” She patted Jughead’s chest and he
laid back down on his side, maneuvering one arm under her neck and reaching
across her body with the other to hold her hip. She turned her head and kissed
him, barely brushing his lips as she told him she loved him.
“I love you too,” he whispered. “Never stopped.”
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