
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13932888.
  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, Humor, Jughead_takes_the_Nancy_Drew_thing
      too_far, Betty_humors_him, And_then_all_hope_of_doing_research_is
      abandoned, First_Time
  Series:
      Part 17 of Bughead_Stories
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-11 Words: 5652
****** Sock it to Me ******
by ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary
     Originally posted on Fanfiction.net. Nobody died at the town hall
     meeting in S2E4, but Betty and Jughead still don't know what the
     Black Hood will do next. Convinced that Nancy Drew might still be the
     key, Jughead talks Betty into a little bit of dress-up to channel her
     beloved childhood heroine. But is that really going to solve
     anything, or just be another distraction? Rated E for a sleuthing
     date that gets solid results.
“Aha!” Jughead withdrew his hand from Betty’s sock drawer clutching a woven
hotdog-shaped lump. “Why have you been hiding these from me?” He turned on
Betty and she snatched the object out of his hand.
“They’re just socks, Jug!” She gave him her scrunched brows, wide eyes, ‘what
is wrong with you’ look.
“Nah. Yesterday they were socks, hell, ten seconds ago they were socks, but now
they’re the key!” he enthused, gesturing shaking hands towards her. She knew it
was a mistake that he’d insisted on coffee before their sleuthing date.
“The key to determining the time and place of the Black Hood’s next target,”
she said flatly, finishing her boyfriend’s thought without his fervour.
“You just don’t see it yet, Betty,” he argued, tilting his hat-covered head
condescendingly. “This is actually a very logical plan. We’re getting in his
head now.” Jughead grabbed Betty by the shoulders, but she still looked up at
him sceptically.
“Maybe the Nancy Drew clue was just a one-time thing…” she suggested, but he
was already shaking his head adamantly.
“I don’t think so. Why would he change the game right when he’s sure you’ve
caught on? You’re not going to like this interpretation, but I think he sees
you as a kind of ally, Betty. You’re speaking the same language now.”
“…Which he knows the whole town is also going to understand, since my mom’s
been publishing everything in the Register.”
“Yeah, but he knew that before.” Jughead was slowly pacing now and shrugged off
his jacket, tossing it onto Betty’s perfectly made bed. “There’d be no point to
him changing the code because, again logically, you’d just keep telling your
mom when you figured it out.”
“Unless I quit telling her anything,” Betty countered. “He doesn’t know what
kind of relationship I have with my mother.”
“Betty,” Jughead replied heavily, halting in front of her, “he knew your most-
read childhood book. Your history of butting heads with your mother would be
much easier to unearth.”
Betty sank back onto her mattress, hands on her knees (balled socks in one),
and groaned.
“This is insane, Jug. Insane.”
“Come on, babe. Until the Black Hood starts dropping a few more hints in his
pervy late-night phone calls, we need to start thinking outside the box. Let
Nancy Drew be your life raft.”
Betty rolled her eyes and mumbled: “Mixed metaphor.” She unfolded the knee-
highs Jughead had plucked from the brimming purgatory of her sock drawer.
“Are we even sure Nancy ever wore knee-highs?” she asked doubtfully. “I feel
like that might have been more of a Velma from Scooby-Doo thing.”
“Uh, you’re the expert here,” Jughead replied, as if it were an accepted fact
that she would know.
“Lucky me,” she mumbled, wiggling her foot into a sock and yanking it up over
the leg of her jeans.
“Woah!” Jughead shouted. Betty looked up in alarm. “Woah, woah, woah! You’re
not even trying! I want to see some sock-to-skin contact here, Betts.”
She groaned again.
“They’re winter socks, Juggy. They itch.”
“I bet Nancy never complained.”
“You…” she trailed off, unable to compose an insult. Jughead laughed and she
peeled her sock off and threw it at his face. Unfortunately, he caught it. “I’m
going to get you back for this.”
“Easy with the threating language, Betty. We’re talking about a serial killer
here. You’re giving me the creeps.” He held his hands up defensively, but he
was grinning down at her.
“Turn around.”
Jughead’s eyes widened.
“Jesus Christ, Betty, why? Is there somebody behind me?”
She sighed.
“No, but I’m trying to do this your way, so I need you to avert your eyes or
something while I change out of my jeans.” Betty raised a hand and made a
shooing motion. Jughead obeyed, putting his back to her and hanging his head.
She was willing to bet he’d closed his eyes as well. He was such a good guy.
“I want it known for the record that this was the method of channeling Nancy
Drew that I was least in favour of.”
“Well her other trademarks are going into places alone―”
“Which you vetoed―”
“For obvious safety reasons. Also, using light sources like torches and candles
in candleholders―”
“Which you vetoed―” Betty repeated, annoyed.
“Hey, I’m not calling you clumsy, but I didn’t want to take any chances with an
open flame.”
Betty rolled her eyes and pulled her jeans off, picking up a mid-thigh-length
skirt left out from her outfit decision making before school that morning. Her
bottoms changed, she tugged on the first sock, then reached for the other,
clasped in both of Jughead’s hands, which he held behind his back. When he felt
her fingers on his palm, he turned. His whistle was sharp and made her cheeks
flush.
“Talk about an open flame,” he whispered, his gaze trailing down her legs―one
covered, one not. Betty twisted the sock in her hand.
“Let’s um… get to work.” She pulled the Black Hood’s letter, the cypher, and
their notes off the top of her dresser. “See if this connection to a children’s
literary character is turned on.”
“I don’t know about Nancy,” said Jughead softly, “but I’m sure turned on.”
Betty twisted back to face him, sure he was just making another joke, but his
gaze was still south of her waist. He was looking at the space of bare leg
between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her socks with such
concentration, he might’ve been measuring it to see which IKEA end table would
perfectly fit within those boundaries.
“Very funny, Jughead,” she said, a little self-consciously.
She sat back on her bed, crossing her legs and staring hard at the papers in
her hands. If she didn’t address the lingering tension, it would just go away,
as it had the other times they’d approached and retreated from a high level of
intimacy. There was just too much going on. Conflicting timetables, the
unforeseen threat of Toni, and now the sudden entrance of a hooded murderer
interrupting the regularly scheduled programming of their teenage drama. The
first two would’ve been more than enough for Betty to contend with, and that
was merely to find time to spend with her boyfriend. Being in the same room
instead of infrequently texting. Holding hands instead of cradling phones to
their ears, trying to drown out the background noise of their increasingly
separate lives in order to even get past “What are you up to?” and “How was
your day?” The further away in time they got from the night the Serpents had
disrupted their activities (which Betty still felt had been leading to sex),
the more recreating a private moment like that felt closer to impossible than
unlikely.
There was a little zip as Jughead drew her blinds shut. Betty looked up,
startled.
“For all we know, he has eyes on your house,” he offered in explanation,
shrugging.
The edges of the sheets crumpled in her hands as she fell back to horizontal.
“Great,” Betty moaned, closing her eyes.
She felt the pages being eased from her grip and the slump of the mattress as
Jughead sat down next to her. Betty sighed and rolled towards him, wrapping her
arms around his waist and pressing her forehead to his denim-covered hip. She
drew her legs up, bending her knees to cover her butt with her feet.
“Jug,” she mumbled against him.
“Hmm?” There was the rustle of paper.
“You still have my sock.”
It landed suddenly on her neck and Betty flinched, opening her eyes. She picked
the sock off of herself, but didn’t put it on, depositing it over the side of
the bed.
“Do you really think he’s watching the house?” she asked quietly, glancing up
at Jughead.
He stopped looking at the pages and set them on the bed on his other side.
Then, he laid back as well, wrapping an arm over Betty and pulling hers over
his chest. It was a sudden, powerful reminder of them waking up together. Betty
had been wanting to feel elated about that recent occurrence, but it had seemed
so accidental after the fact that she never felt like dwelling on it. Had they
slept that way simply out of exhaustion and convenience? Were they a pair of
senior citizens? Would their relationship ever last that long if they couldn’t
push past the so-far impermeable barrier of PG? Betty shifted her head onto
Jughead’s chest, listening to the primordial pump of his heart.
“We know the Black Hood’s been here,” he began, “because he left that first
envelope for your mother. Watching the house though? No, I think that would be
too risky. I mean, nobody knows exactly what he looks like, but everybody’s
heard Archie go on and on about those green eyes by now, so the psycho has at
least one clear identifier.” Jughead let out a deep breath. “Personally, I
wouldn’t be hanging around anywhere near Archie’s place if I were the Black
Hood. We both know young Robert Redford’s lost the plot a little lately.”
“So you don’t think Archie’s presence might draw the Hood in?” Betty asked,
trailing her fingers across Jughead’s t-shirt contemplatively.
“No. If anything, I think Archie’s presence is protecting you. I wish I could
do that,” he finished faintly.
Betty’s heart leapt in her chest.
“You do do that,” she insisted, propping herself up on one elbow to look down
at him. “You helped me figure out the cypher.”
“That was pure greediness, Betts. With puzzles and secret codes, I’m like a kid
in a Dan Brown-themed candy store.”
“You’re here with me now,” she offered, trying again. “That counts.”
Jughead shrugged, reaching up to twist the elastic out of her hair, but he was
starting to look convinced.
“You shut the blinds in case he comes around and tries to stare up at the
window. That was for my sake,” Betty insisted, poking Jughead’s chest and
smiling.
“But I’m a selfish creature, Betty. It was mostly for mine.” His fingers dug
deep into her hair, making her head tingle.
“Oh yeah?” she whispered, letting him guide her face down.
“Mhmm,” Jughead confirmed, his dark blue-green eyes making a final sweep of her
face before closing, when he pressed his lips to hers.
She felt his other hand creep up the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps.
Pressing her fingers a little more firmly into his chest, Betty started to get
curious. She kissed him harder, sensing her whole body wanting to strain into
the motion. Getting a grip in her hair, Jughead opened his mouth wider under
hers and angled her head to intensify the kiss. Betty took a deep breath,
touching her tongue to Jughead’s as the smell of him filled her nose, making
her hungry in a way a burger at Pop’s couldn’t help with. He responded eagerly,
pulling her in by the tongue, then sliding his hand from her neck down her back
to press her closer. Betty was trying to comply, shuffling her limbs so that
her body wasn’t so contorted, when her bent knee grazed the front of Jughead’s
thigh. He made a sort of choking grunt and released her hair, gripping the back
of her head instead as he kissed her with ardour. His other hand slipped down
her back before running over to her hip, along her leg, and catching the back
of her knee. Curling his finger around to get a good hold, Jughead twitched her
knee forward suggestively. His hand was comfortably warm on her bare skin, but
she shivered all the same.
Jughead twitched her knee again and their kiss began to slow like thickening
cement, so that she was aware of every nudge of his chin, every poke his
straight nose gave her cheek. She felt his fingers twirling more sensually
through her hair and the drag of her pale sweater across her chest every time
she pressed forward to kiss him. She thought about the fact that neither of
them needed to be anywhere else right then, and that both of her parents would
be occupied―maybe for hours―at another town hall meeting that her mother had
pushed for after the disruption of the last one. Betty let her bent leg be
towed across until her thigh was on top of Jughead’s, then in his lap, then she
gave in and got on hands and knees to fully move her leg to the far side of his
hips. With her legs wide to straddle him, Betty was extra-conscious of the
length of her skirt which was, compared to others she owned, not very
substantial. Jughead was conscious of it too, smoothing out the fingers of the
hand that had been grasping her knee until they stretched up the back of her
thigh…
Betty shuddered and broke the kiss, raising up on her hands to stare down
uncertainly at Jughead. He scooped her hair to one side, keeping it out of her
face, and Betty studied him. His hat had slid back on his head, his eyes were
shiny and dangerous in the soft light of her lamp, and the reddened lips of his
wide mouth were still parted from kissing her. He’d kissed her before, lots of
times, but not like that. And he’d looked at her after kissing her before, but
not like he was now. Normally there was a kind of gentle satisfaction in his
face, but now his expression seemed to be trying to tell Betty that he wasn’t
done, just beginning.
“If you’re going to say we should get back to Nancy Drew-ing, then you’re
right.” His hand travelled a little higher up her thigh. “I just really don’t
want to.” Jughead’s gaze moved down to her lips, which Betty bit before
replying.
“I thought solving mysteries was your favourite pastime,” said Betty, pushing
Jughead’s hat the rest of the way off and edging her fingers around his face,
playing with his black hair.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said, and she felt the hem of her skirt
lift slightly as his fingers slipped underneath. Her heart was pounding.
“And?”
“Well…” Jughead trailed off. Betty could tell he had begun to distract himself
as well. She leaned down, kissing his neck lightly. He turned his head to press
his cheek to her hair. “I think it would be rash to pick a favourite without
trying out a few more.”
“Any ideas?”
“Oh, I always have ideas,” he assured her with a smirk.
Next thing she knew, Jughead was up on his elbows, pulling himself backwards so
his legs weren’t hanging off the side of her bed. Betty could have climbed off
of him to let him readjust without obstruction, except the look in his eyes
stopped her. Also, the bulge in his jeans, which she only saw now, but had been
hovering over obliviously since sometime after straddling him. So, for the
first time in ages, Betty acted out of desire instead of fear or desperation.
She crawled after Jughead, watching his smile spread across his face as he
watched her, still on his elbows. At his hips, Betty drew her knees in against
him and sat. In this position, her skirt was of no use to her at all, her
underwear alone separating her from his jeans.
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Betty looked down, sliding
her hand under the bottom of Jughead’s t-shirt. In response, both of his hands
came up the front of her thighs. She smiled, tilting forward to kiss him while
her fingers discovered his abdominal muscles. Jughead repositioned one hand on
her lower back, pressing her against him and letting his other hand slink
straight up her skirt. Betty felt the negligible pressure of her underwear’s
elastic disappear when Jughead burrowed his fingers under the fabric to feel
the continuous skin of her uncovered hip. Drawing out of the kiss, her
breathing shaky, Betty pressed down, rubbing across his erection. She realized
she’d definitely been getting wet and felt a complementary, almost painfully
present contraction of the muscles most invested in the situation. Jughead
forced his hand completely through the leg of her panties and reached around to
grab Betty’s naked backside. He didn’t push her, but when Betty rocked across
him a second time, she could feel Jughead’s fingers tense on her ass.
He laid back, taking her with him, then leaned into Betty, rolling her onto her
back while his weight settled over her. Instinctively, she bent her knees to
make way for Jughead’s hips. One of her feet landed on the loose sheets of
paper they were supposed to be focusing on and she rebelliously kicked them
away to flutter onto the floor. With a look Betty wanted to call giddy―but
wouldn’t do so aloud for fear of injuring his reputation―Jughead wedged a hand
behind her back, drawing her sweater up to the fastening of her bra, then
hooking his fingers beneath it. It was the second time he’d maneuvered his
hands between her lingerie and her skin and Betty didn’t need a cypher to crack
this code: he obviously wanted to feel more of her bare skin against his.
She’d been teasing him, stroking her fingers (over Jughead’s t-shirt) down his
chest towards his hips until she felt the muscles of his abdomen jump, but now,
with one of his hands tracing the ridges of her vertebrae and the other headed
back up her thigh, things were getting serious. Things were getting hot and
heavy, like myriad ‘80s rock songs had promised her they would. As he fingered
the lacy hem of her underwear, Betty jolted.
“Tops first?” she suggested, figuring the exposed upper half of Jughead’s body
would be less intimidating to her than the lower half.
“Are we working down to the socks, or what?” Jughead grinned then kissed her,
fiercely but briefly.
Betty touched her cheeks with both hands, fingertips, then the backs of her
fingers, trying from the heat of her skin to gauge how brightly it had flushed.
“Maybe for you,” she replied shyly, “but I only have one sock.”
“Then let’s get that off first,” Jughead said, his hand withdrawing from her
skirt to skim down to her knee, where the top of the sock reached to. “Good
first step in case you get cold feet.” He yanked her sock down and Betty lifted
her foot slightly so he could remove it.
“That is a terrible joke, Juggy.”
But she stretched her neck up to kiss his cheek. He turned his face, quickly
pulling her into a disorienting kiss that made Betty breathe hard through her
nose, getting caught up and tossed around in his masculine smell all over
again. She wondered if he always smelled like this or if it was some sort of
evolutionary hormonal thing designed to lure her in and let him do what he
liked with and to her. Betty was winding her foot around his calf, nudging her
crotch against the hardened dick testing the stretchiness of the front of
Jughead’s jeans, when she recalled she’d actually had sort of a plan. She
turned her face away abruptly, but Jughead, undeterred, just switched to
kissing down her neck instead. When he reached the base of her throat, she
started wishing she hadn’t worn a crewneck sweater… but hopefully it wouldn’t
be on much longer anyway.
“Tops!” Betty insisted, swatting lightly at his shoulder. Jughead groaned in
pretend frustration against her skin and sat back, peeling his shirt over his
head and flinging it away in one seamless motion that seemed to Betty like a
prime example of her boyfriend’s casual sexiness. Her next thought was that
maybe starting at the top might not have been the least intimidating route
after all; Jughead’s leanly muscled torso was beautiful―smooth and flawless
like he’d been folded in half vertically and cut out to leave a perfect
symmetry of hotness. She hoped that the way he’d apparently been aligning
himself with the Serpents didn’t lead to any fights that marred this
unblemished canvas. She felt extraordinarily possessive of Jughead, seeing him
like this.
“You,” he said expectantly, already running his eyes over her still-clothed
chest and shoulders.
Betty was fairly certain she couldn’t remove her top as gracefully as Jughead
had just done his, since she was lying flat on her back, but luckily, he didn’t
seem too interested in waiting as she struggled through it. His palms smoothed
up her ribcage, taking the sweater with them, and all Betty had to do was lift
her shoulders, raise her head, and stretch out her arms, while Jughead got her
down to her bra. She made up for a less accessible sweater choice with her
undergarments and was thoroughly gratified by the way Jughead’s gaze landed on
the translucent lace of the cups of her bra and lingered… until he broke his
own trance and felt behind her to pinch the clasp open and drag the whole thing
off of her.
He leaned down to her, bringing their bared chests together and Betty thought
it was incredible, wrapping her arms around him to touch the curve of his ribs,
the sharp jut of his shoulder blades. Feeling her nipples rub across his skin
was taking her to a higher altitude of arousal and Betty moaned without
thinking about the sound before it left her lips. Daringly, she shot her hand
down in the opposite direction, gliding her palm over his ass.
“Well if below the waist is fair game now…” he murmured, the ends of his hair
sweeping across her forehead as he closed in and kissed her.
Jughead found the zipper of her skirt and undid it. Betty eagerly raised her
hips, making Jughead gasp and grind against her. In apparent retaliation, he
tugged her skirt down and took her panties with it. The top half of her body
had been one thing―territory he’d seen bits and pieces of when she wore tank
tops or anything with a deeper V neckline―but this was something very
different. Unlike after Jughead had removed her sweater and bra, Betty couldn’t
just cuddle against him, enjoying her nudity while also hiding it. Now, she had
to stay calm as her boyfriend backed up enough to get the layers down her legs
and off, with the entire length of her body exposed the whole time. The
positive side was that she wasn’t cold; even without the abundant heat Jughead
was radiating when in contact with her, Betty’s body was keeping the
temperature nice and high. Terrarium-high. If she’d been a lizard, she would’ve
been very happy. Of course, having Jughead in her bedroom at night was more
than enough to make her glad to be human.
His eyes didn’t skip over anything, but Betty discovered it was actually easier
to be this open―literally, with him still kneeling between her parted
thighs―when he made his appreciation of her so obvious. Jughead’s fingers went
to the fastening of his jeans and she noticed his hands were trembling. Her
stare flew back up to his face, which was watching her intently.
“Should I―should I not?” he stumbled out, his fingers stilling (as much as they
could through the shaking) after popping his button free.
“No,” Betty said, smiling, then realized it sounded wrong. “I mean yes! Yes,
take them off.”
Now she sounded too eager and, to her relief, they both burst out laughing.
Jughead reached down for her hand, holding it tenderly and seeming to get as
much satisfaction from that touch as from any other.
“Help me. Ok?”
Betty nodded and let him move out from between her legs so that she could get
herself up to kneeling as well. Jughead pressed his palm to her cheek and Betty
could tell he wasn’t trembling anymore. He swept her hair back from her face
once, twice, then tangled his fingers in it, cupping the back of her neck while
Betty’s own fingers felt out his zipper and lowered it. The skin of his abdomen
against the back of her hand was warm, but even through his boxers, Betty could
tell that, lower down, it was even hotter. Struggling to keep her eyes on his
face when she mostly wanted to turn away in embarrassment, Betty put her hand
on him, feeling his length through the cotton. Jughead sucked in a breath she
thought would never end, then nodded to her. She wasn’t sure whether that meant
to do it again or to continue with the process of divesting him, but Betty went
with the latter, moving her hands to his hips and borrowing Jughead’s little
trick of taking both layers down at once. Betty leaned her forehead against
Jughead’s shoulder, trying to be inconspicuous about glancing down and checking
out his size, but when she flicked her eyes back up, he was failing to contain
a smug smirk.
Apparently emboldened rather than embarrassed, Jughead shaped his hands to
Betty’s hips and slid them up the curve of her waist and inward to her chest,
where he confidently cupped her breasts. Betty breathed unsteadily, Jughead’s
hands rising and falling with her body as she searched frantically for the
usually natural rhythm of her lungs. Suddenly, one of his hands dropped away,
his fingers letting her know they still existed by diving forward and sliding
through the wetness between her legs. Apparently, Betty’s resting heartrate was
something she wouldn’t be discerning again for a while.
Winding their arms around each other and bringing their mouths together
earnestly, Betty and Jughead progressed from kneeling apart from each other to
sitting, legs partially entangled, to shuffling further back onto the bed,
until they ended up with Jughead sitting, legs straight out and back against
the wall, with Betty again in his lap. She was feeling good about this, like
she was back on home turf―after all, she’d imagined climbing on top of Jughead
in her bed before, though the real thing was so much more, in every way, than
she’d fantasized. For one thing, there were his fingers, back between her legs,
spreading her wetness over her clit in a way that made her feel lightly
electrocuted, if there were such a thing. For another, there was the solid
presence of his erect cock standing stiff and flushed between them. Jughead let
his fingers slide back to her entrance and after a few moments, pushed one
inside.
Betty felt awkward and alarmed for a second, then he crooked his finger and she
let out an unearthly moan, digging her fingernails into the flesh of his
shoulders. She felt his dick pulse against her abdomen as she unconscious
shifted closer to him, wordlessly begging as she levelled him with a lustful
stare. Jughead curled his finger into her again and Betty’s eyes closed in
pleasure. She tilted her hips to press her wetted clit against his shaft and
stroked downwards, making every nerve in her body seem to tingle and ending in
the weightier bliss of Jughead’s fingers―two now―plunging into her. She started
moving eagerly but uncoordinatedly and Jughead grabbed her hip, maybe a little
rougher than he would’ve if most of his mind hadn’t been focused on the way she
was rubbing herself off against his cock.
“Still… miss the… socks?” she panted, her lips parting in a sloppy smile as her
body was flooded with heat coming straight from her core.
“Fuck those socks,” Jughead grunted, his eyebrows drawn together in severe
concentration.
Betty grabbed his chin and kissed him hard, muffling his groan with her tongue.
She raised herself on her knees and let his hands take over, aligning the head
of his erection with her opening. Squeezing her eyes shut from the discomfort,
Betty had to stop kissing him, but Jughead continued to plant kisses all over
her face, whispering into her ear a mix of tender affirmations and blatantly
erotic thoughts about the way she felt around his dick. Somehow, it helped and
Betty relaxed her unwittingly clenched thighs and sunk down onto him. Jughead
positively convulsed against her, tightening his arm around her waist and
swearing. She hadn’t meant to test his endurance; Betty honestly hadn’t
realized how much of him was left to push into her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Jughead exhaled and shook his head, eyes burning with hunger.
“I… it’s…”
It seemed he either couldn’t think of how to complete that sentence or he just
couldn’t get it out, but he hauled her chest against his and jerked his hips
sharply upwards. It was too much for Betty: harsh, sore, overwhelming… and
then, like swallowing and then experiencing the aftertaste… good, very good,
very, very good. She rotated her hips delicately, but there was no way to get a
feel for the size of him inside of her. He was just big and there. Betty
decided to fight fire with fire, lifting herself and sliding back down on him
swiftly. What shocked her as much as the burst of inexplicable feeling was the
overwhelmed tear that escaped the corner of her eye; evidently, her emotions
were as surprised as her body was.
Jughead’s hands crawled up her stomach, fingers spreading like vines until he
reached her chest and took her nipples securely between his fingertips. As
Betty rocked, shuddering when her clit rubbed the lowest region of his abdomen,
Jughead twisted, tugged, and flicked at her nipples. He nuzzled his face into
her neck, licking deftly up to the underside of her jaw, then pressing the side
of his face to hers. She increased her pace, though her calves felt on the
verge of permanently cramping and her skin felt tacky everywhere it met and
separated from Jughead’s. He smoothed both hands down to and around her hips
and gripped her ass, bucking up into her. It didn’t matter that his rhythm was
sometimes at odds with hers. The whole thing was sweaty and uncontrolled and
she couldn’t have loved it more.
“I love you,” she burst out, moaning as Jughead gave her a hard thrust.
“You too,” he muttered. “God, so much.”
Betty’s pleasure seemed to be bunching up, cramming against an invisible
ceiling, and she wrapped her arms around Jughead’s neck, clinging to him. She
knew they had chemistry, but this was ridiculous. Surely, it couldn’t be this
good for everyone. Why the hell had they waited? Betty wanted this, constantly,
forever, and more. Right now. Amazing her, Jughead leaned forward, getting his
feet under him for leverage to bring her down onto her back. He didn’t even
bother straightening his legs, raised slightly on his knees as he continued
almost without pause, ramming into her with all determination while Betty cried
out, one leg hooked around his hips and the other stretched so that her foot
was pressed flat to the wall. She came as her back and neck arched, opening up
the length of her throat for Jughead to bite at while he released, actually
shifting her further down the bed when he sank into her rapidly, over and over.
In her bliss, Betty felt like she and Jughead might have merged into one person
because it was so hard to imagine them as separate with him throbbing inside of
her.
Eventually, tense in some areas and absolutely Jell-O in others, they rolled
apart. Betty grabbed Jughead’s hand and smacked his palm down over her heart.
She thought it was obvious that she was trying to demonstrate how hard it was
beating, but she looked over at him and saw his eyes lighting up mischievously,
realizing all he was getting out of it in that moment was that his hand was
back on her breast. She rolled her eyes and he moved his hand down to her
waist, pulling her onto her side so she was facing him. Betty did him one
better and pressed her nose right to his chest. He smelled like a darker,
naughtier version of Jughead now and she was very into it.
“Do you know where the papers went?” he asked, not sounding very serious.
“Juggy, I don’t even know if all of my limbs are still attached,” she answered
languorously.
“Well that’s a problem Nancy Drew certainly never had.”
“I guess she didn’t get out enough.”
“You realize you’re saying that from your bedroom.”
Betty felt his nose bump the top of her head and she drew her face back to
smile at him.
“So what’s your point?”
“I forget.”
She snickered.
“This wasn’t really part of the plan for tonight, was it?”
“I don’t know about that.” Jughead frowned, considering. “This was supposed to
be a sleuthing date and we definitely uncovered some things.” He raised one
eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting as well. “And if nothing else, our
brains should be nice and fresh now, cleared of all the bad ideas we were stuck
on before.”
“Your last idea was getting me to dress like Nancy Drew.”
“Obviously that one’s excluded, because it worked out excellently,” he
explained. Betty sighed, smiling at him.
“We should probably get dressed,” she said after a minute.
“You want me to come back later?”
Betty’s eyebrows shot up.
“When my parents are home?”
“After they’re sleeping,” he clarified.
“Are you crazy?”
“What? You might need me to protect you again.”
Betty bit her lip, but it couldn’t contain her smile.
“Maybe more than once,” she agreed.
“Finally we’re on the same page!” Jughead exclaimed, holding the back of her
neck as he kissed her soundly.
“Then I think we made some progress tonight after all,” Betty answered, pulling
him close to her for a few minutes more.
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