Chapter Text
Betty dropped down on the bed with exhaustion, groaning internally as her mother scolded her immediately.
“No time for rest, Betty! We need to get ready for dinner. If you weren’t late then maybe you’d have time for a power nap.”
Betty sat up on the bed and rolled her eyes. Thankfully her mother didn’t see. Alice turned then and placed a hand on her hip, “You definitely need a shower and fresh makeup. I hope you brought enough clothes.”
“I did, mum. Don’t worry, I’ll be presentable.” She assured, pulling herself up and grabbing her small suitcase to throw down on the bed where she’d been sitting.
“Hurry, I don’t want to keep FP waiting. He and Jughead have already been here the whole day.” Alice was the most passive aggressive person Betty had ever met. No doubt that was another dig at her lateness.
She’d had to catch a later flight out of JFK because one of her meetings had run over. She’d apologized profusely already and promised she’d be ready for dinner. But her mother was ever the worrier.
“I’m going, I’m going,” she said in defense, taking the things she needed out of her suitcase.
She smiled when she saw her mother looking at herself in the full-length mirror. She was happier than Betty had ever seen her, glowing with love. She deserved to be happy, especially after the nasty divorce with her father a few years ago. Alice was finally coming out of all that, and definitely on top.
“Come on, what are you waiting for?” Alice barked, making Betty jump slightly and head for the bathroom.
Her mother had her on such edge, when really all she wanted was to relax now that she was here.
“You’re going to love Jughead. You two have so much in common!” Alice spoke up from the other side of the door. Yes, Betty had heard this already. FP had a son; he, like Betty, was 27. He was an aspiring writer and Betty was an editor for Penguin Random House. Wow, so much in common, she thought sarcastically.
Betty had literally worked her ass off to get into the position she was in, and she was still working her ass off to this day. Jughead was a man who probably had every opportunity handed to him without having to even try.
Betty closed the eyes and sighed, her first second alone since early this morning in her apartment. Her day had started in NYC, and now she was here, in Vegas, supporting her mother in her upcoming marriage to the very unlikely FP.
Betty had met FP six months ago when she was visiting her mum in Riverdale over the holidays. FP had moved to Riverdale earlier that year, and the two of them had hit it off instantly. And now here they all were, getting ready for a Vegas wedding.
Betty couldn’t believe it. It was so unlike her mother. But she’d support her no matter what, especially when she was so happy.
Jughead leaned against the column and placed his hands in his pockets, looking around at all the people enjoy their vacations and passing him by. His father was talking with the hostess, making sure they had the perfect table that he had booked weeks in advance.
Jughead had met Alice a few months ago, his father’s new girlfriend – or rather fiancée – while he visited the new town his father had made home. He didn’t necessarily like the woman, but his dad was smitten, and the wedding was the day after tomorrow. So he better get used to her.
“I can’t wait for you to meet your new stepsister, kid. Betty’s a wonderful young woman. You’ll like her. You have so much in common.” His dad said, clapping him on the shoulder as he came over.
Jughead just gave a short smile. If she was anything like her mother he doubted it. Stuck up perfect blondes weren’t really his thing. Besides, he had no idea how being the same age meant they had anything in common. Betty was some big shot editor for the biggest book publisher in the world, and he was a lowly aspiring author, working for a small Brooklyn art gallery owner to make ends meet. He’d never been handed anything like Betty probably had, with her rich parents backing her up at every turn.
“Everything okay with the table?” Jughead asked, not wanting to be negative this weekend. No matter how he felt, he wanted to support his father, who was finally happy, after so many years. He was shocked it was with someone like Alice, but hey, opposites attract, as they say.
“Everything’s great. I just said we didn’t want to be seated until the girls are here… Oh, there they are…” FP smiled, a happy stupid smile Jughead had only seen on his father’s face twice before – when he graduated college and then again on the day he introduced him to Alice.
Jughead followed his dad’s line of sight, seeing Alice right away. She was in a light blue dress and heels to match; her hair was in perfect curls, everything from her makeup to her nail polish immaculate.
She was such a complete opposite to his mother that it kind of turned him off, like his dad was betraying his mum by choosing someone so different – even though his parents had been divorced for a long time now and his mum had been living with another man for a good five years.
“FP,” Alice greeted with a breath, throwing her arms around him.
“You look beautiful,” he said, holding her like she was his everything, which Jughead supposed was true. He’d never imaged his dad to be a romantic, but the two of them were nauseating.
He glanced from his dad and Alice to the young replica of Alice, standing there and watching their parents as well, a pretty smile on her face.
She looked just as perfect as her mother; a tight black dress showing off her lovely figure, strappy heels making her legs look long and toned, manicured pink fingernails and delicate gold jewelry adoring her beautiful neck and slim wrists. She seemed wound tight, and it kind of turned him on.
As he frowned, his eyes met her bright green ones, and she gave him a frown in return. He didn’t mean to, but he instantly pictured ripping the dress off her. She’d no doubt be wearing stupid expensive lingerie, lace covering her perky breasts and tight ass. Something about the fact that she seemed so perfect made him want to undo her even more.
Why the fuck was he looking at her that way?
“Oh, Jughead, sweetheart, don’t you look so handsome,” her mother mused, going to wrap her arms around the young man.
Jughead gave a fake smile in return, which was a shame because he was definitely attractive; tall, incredible thick dark hair, and stormy eyes, a younger version of his father – everything down to his heavily tattooed arms, revealed by the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. Betty could admit she saw the attraction her mother had towards FP, he was a very good-looking older man, and definitely the kind of daddy material Veronica would be into.
As Alice and Jughead said hello, FP gave Betty a warm smile, taking her hand before they joined in a hug, “Thank you so much for being here, Betty. It means so much to your mum and me,”
She smiled genuinely as they hugged, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. I’m so happy for you both.”
“You look lovely,” he added as they pulled away, and she thanked him.
FP’s happy smile stayed in place as he introduced his son, “Betty, Jughead. Jughead, Betty.”
Betty extended her hand towards her soon to be stepbrother, not really getting the friendliest of vibe from him.
But she wasn’t really in the best of moods anyway. Work had been stressful all week and her meeting hadn’t gone great, so maybe she was just imagining things.
“Good to meet you,” he spoke, giving her hand one shake before dropping it.
“You too,” she smiled, thinking she needed a drink, or… six.
Their dinner went fine. Betty was on her second martini, and Jughead had to stop himself from laughing when Alice judged her for it. Betty had rolled her eyes and ordered a third before even taking a sip of her second.
“Betty, we’re on dessert,” Alice warned, as if embarrassed her seemingly perfect daughter was acting inappropriately.
She was perfect, with her blonde waves that had just the right amount of bounce and her lips still pink and glossy even after eating her steak and salad. Now, that had been attractive. Seeing a petite girl like her eat the whole thing. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he thought.
“It’s okay, Ali,” FP said, “Betty and Jughead should stay downstairs for awhile, get to know one another better.” He suggested, “Maybe you two kids can check out the club on the other side of the casino. I hear it’s great.”
“But, I don’t want Betty to be hung over for our girls day tomorrow.” Alice worried.
Betty downed the rest of her drink, seeming relieved when her third arrived, “I can handle a few martinis, mum. And I’ll be fine for our spa day tomorrow… at two… in the afternoon.” She broke up the last two parts for emphasis, so Alice would see how stupid her worrying was.
Alice huffed.
“See, she’ll be fine. They’re young. Let them have some fun.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Come on, let’s give them some time to get to know each other.” FP smiled at Betty, handing his credit card to their server.
Alice sighed, “Okay, but not too late, you two. And Jughead, sweetheart, please don’t let her have anymore drinks.”
Betty groaned, and Jughead laughed lightly, “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Perfect,” Betty said with an annoyed tone.
“You know, when I told my mum I wanted a brother, I didn’t mean a grown man,” Betty frowned, looking Jughead up and down side ways as they walked across the casino to the club.
He was so calm and collected, a royal blue shirt with the top few bottoms undone, and shoes and pants that screamed style. There were tattoos peeking out of the opened shirt, and she wondered just how many he had. He was probably gay.
Too bad, she thought. Because he was sexy, and Betty had really been lacking in the sex department as of late, too wrapped up in work to even get a chance to online date.
“And I never even asked for a sister,” he added with an easy laugh.
She needed another drink. The three she’d had during dinner were definitely improving her mood and getting her mind off the stress. This was exactly what she needed. And it was kind of freeing being around someone new who didn’t have preconceived notions about her.
She didn’t have to be perfect reserved Betty around him. Maybe she could be forward and a little wild.
Her mum had been hell bent on making dinner all about her career though – how successful Betty was for her age and how she just had to read Jughead’s novel so she could be his editor. It was all a very nice fairytale.
Truth was, Betty was a little more interested in getting into his pants than she was into his book. Everything in her life had been about books, and it had been too long since she let loose.
Once inside the club she slipped her hand into his. She saw the way he looked down with an amused smirk, his large hand tightening around hers and making her swallow. She could think of at least four other places she’d like him to grab on to.
Something about the fact that he was going to be her stepbrother the day after tomorrow only made this more exciting, knowing her mother would have a heart attack at her current actions.
Jughead held Betty’s small hand as he led her to the bar, easily getting the bartenders attention with a nod. He ordered himself a beer and Betty another martini, which seemed to be her drink of choice.
He pulled his hand away from hers only to place it on her hip, running his fingers over the soft fabric of her dress, “So, you have a really impressive job, huh?” he half joked, speaking up through the music, noticing from their whole dinner conversation how uncomfortable Alice had made Betty about the whole thing.
Betty’s hand came up onto his chest, her finger hooking into his unbuttoned shirt. He would not expect this type of open flirtation from a girl like her, but he guessed that was part of the appeal – fucking someone as perfect as her, knowing she was actually dirty behind closed door.
“Let’s not talk about how impressive my job is,” she suggested, distracted by the drink that was now on the bar, “Let’s just drink,”
He took his beer and watched her, knowing he had to cut her off at this one. Four martinis was a lot for a girl her size, even on a full stomach.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. I’m getting to know my new stepbrother,” she replied, putting the glass down and stepping closer to him, his hand on her hip moving around to her lower back, his fingers coming over the curve of her ass.
As her body pressed harder against his she gasped with the realization that she already had him hard. He just smirked, taking a longer pull from his beer.
“Well I’m definitely getting to know you now, aren’t I?” she purred, his eyes drawn to her lips and the way they pulled up at the edges.
“Are you, now?” he teased.
“You’re not gay, are you?”
That made him laugh. He’d been with a few men, back in college, but he was definitely much more into woman, “Do I seem gay?” He asked, knowing very well she could feel his growing arousal.
“I mean,” she swallowed than, as if searching for words, “Not right now…” she finished, biting into her lip.
“Is it just that I know how to dress?” he asked with an amused smirk. He had the whole tattooed hipster look down; his many artist friends helping him find his style.
Betty shrugged, “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Ever since moving to New York City and becoming enthralled in the art scene he’d learned a lot about fashion.
In her hazy state, as soon as a song she liked came on she was pulling Jughead onto the dance floor, letting loose and enjoying herself for the first time in forever. Veronica would be so proud of her.
It was just that she was in a different city; where no one knew her, and she didn’t have to worry about work for a few days. Why not get some of her frustrations out?
She imagined Jughead would be very helpful with that. Her panties were already soaking with the anticipation of how tonight would end. He was incredibly sexy, his hands already so skillful in the confident way they moved over her body as she ground her ass back into him during their time on the dance floor.
She knew one thing; she was not going back to that hotel room she was sharing with her mother tonight without getting fucked first. She hoped Jughead would be the one, but she wasn’t above getting one of the other horny guys in the club do the job.
After a few songs, when Jughead led her off the dance floor and ordered her a bottle of water, she pouted, “Don’t want me drunk?” she asked. Her head was in that wonderful place of being completely aware of everything but without inhibition, acting out her every want without shame.
As he handed his card over to the bartender, he leaned down, speaking into her ear, and sending shivers through her body at the feel of it, “It won’t be as fun when I fuck you if you’re drunk,”
When he pulled back and handed her the water, she felt her mouth go dry at the promise. She took a sip and looked up at him with what she hoped was a sexy smile.
“Call me crazy, but I’m not into that,” he added with a chuckle.
She leaned her elbows against the bar, getting her bearings as her head spun a little; the heat, the alcohol, and the lust mixing into a dangerous concoction.
Jughead was standing half behind her, his hand on her hip as he looked at his phone with the other and laughed. She looked side ways at him, wondering what was funny.
“My dad just texted me not to come back up to our room anytime in the next few hours. Guess our parents are encaging in some premarital sex.”
Betty groaned at the thought, quickly biting her lip when Jughead’s hand came around her hip to her lower stomach, so close to where her thighs were squeezing together, an intense throbbing between her legs.
Jughead’s lips were on her shoulder then, Betty’s body lighting with excitement, as it was the first contact she had with them. His kisses moved up her neck and back to her ear, “Drink up, Betty,” he ordered, the bottle back at her lips with the command.
When his hand moved down the side of her thigh and came around to squeeze the delicate flesh of her inner thigh, she almost chocked on her water, moaning at the feel. He’d pulled her dress up slightly with the action, and anyone who looked would be able to see his hand was on her.
There were a lot of people though and she imaged they’d be safe, her mind losing more control as his hand continued higher, so close she was sure he could feel the dampness on her thighs.
“I didn’t think you’d be so much fun,” he spoke, reminding her to finish her water next.
She downed the rest of the bottle, grabbing his hand and shoving it away as she turned, “That’s me, fun Betty,” she said with amusement on her part. She was pretty sure none of her friends or family would describe her that way.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, still so tall with even her heels on.
She was grabbing onto the back of his shirt, and he was smirking at the whole situation. He wasn’t a super cocky guy, but something about tonight, and something about being with her, made him feel different – like he wanted to show her he was man enough for her to use him.
God, and he wanted to use her.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, I might just have to show you angry Betty,” she spoke, making him chuckle.
Oh, he’d fuck her, he’d never wanted to fuck anyone this bad before in his life. The attraction toward her was instant and almost animalistic, catching him off guard because he never imaged himself with someone like her.
He pulled her arms off his shoulders, grabbing her hand and dragged her though the club, through the bodies and into the men’s bathrooms. Thankfully there was only one guy at the urinal and the two of them were now stuffed into the last stall around one of the corners, where he imagined no one would go unless the bathroom was full, and the men’s never was – even in a crowded nightclub like this one.
Her breathing was labored and her hands were all over him, grabbing onto the back of his hair as he bit into the side of her neck, her skin salty and warm.
She gasped and bumped her head into the stall as he lifted her up, spreading her thighs so her dress was riding up, with him stepping between her legs and holding her up with his own body.
“Shhh,” he said in warning, smirking when he pulled back only to see how turned on she was, her plump lips open and her big doe eyes half closed. She had a wonderful red glow to her cheeks too, the night hot and sticky.
She gave him a pout but he just smiled wider, lifting her dress above her ass and feeling around to her legs, making sure her ankles hooked behind him to help support her.
Finally, unable to hold off any longer, he crashed his lips against her, moans ripping through them both even though he’d told her to be quiet only seconds earlier. Kissing her felt so sinful and dirty, like he was taking something away from her, even though he was sure she felt the same way – what with him being so beneath her.
He was holding her up so firmly that she easily moved her hands out of his hair, reaching down between them to undo his pants, their kiss breaking so she could look down at what she was doing.
With her lips panting against his, she reached inside and grabbed a hold of him, more confidently than any other woman had, pulling him out, and whispering, “Fuck me… God, please,” and he heard the need from deep within.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked, surprised he had enough sense to do so.
As soon as she nodded, he was gripping her panties to the side and moving into her, stopping for a second at the feel of her walls stretching around him, fighting against his thickness even though she was so warm and wet.
“Fuck, you’re not a virgin, are you?” he groaned, pulling back only to slam back in harder.
She half screamed, his hand quickly coming to her mouth, covering it and making her eyes widen in surprise. He fucked into her a few more time, hard and deep, her moans muffled behind his firm hand.
When he gently released his hold she gasped for air, but seemed to remember she needed to stay quiet, “Not since I was seventeen,” she replied weakly, her eyes squeezing shut and her mascara smudging as he began a steady but quick pace.
“Fuck,” she breathed, throwing her head back as his face moved into her neck, licking up the sweat and loving the way her fingers scratched along his back and head.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted against her ear, feeling her walls flutter around him as he pounded her into the stall, holding her up by her ass, his fingers still hooked into her panties to hold them off to the side.
“It’s been awhile,” she replied.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her toes curling in her high-heeled shoes. God it felt so good, his cock drilling into her now at an impossibly fast pace. She wanted to scream, feeling her whole body burning up with an orgasm desperate to erupt.
Just the way he was touching her, and controlling her body was enough. But the fact that he was good at this, like really fucking good, was the biggest bonus. She’d never had rough, dirty sex, and definitely not in public like this. It was thrilling.
“Jug,” she managed to breathe, her chest fighting to rise and fall against his heavy one, completely pressed and held down by him.
His unceasing thrusts calmed down, pulling away and grabbing her face to make her look at him, “You okay?” he asked.
It made her smile, nodding, “I wanna come,” she almost begged.
The way his dark eyes looked into hers, shadows casting over his gorgeous chiseled face, made her pussy quiver around him, so close to the edge.
He thrust harder into her then, his hand moving down to grab onto her breast for a second before moving back down to hold her. She wished they were naked, so she could see his hard body instead of just feeling it, and so his hands could fondle more than just her ass.
“Well, come on,” he teased, pulling out slow only to thrust back in deep. She needed more stimulation to that spot the tip of his dick was hitting so well.
She gasped every time he hit it, but he was just watching her, as she slowly felt like she was dying, and he held all the power over her, “Come around my cock, baby,”
“Please,” she moaned, needing him to be as hard and rough as he was a moment ago, “Harder, Jug… Faster.”
As he began to give her what she wanted, his lips came sloppily down against hers, their saliva, sweat, and her tears smearing against each other’s faces.
“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good,” he murmured against her mouth, capturing it again as soon as she began to gasp lightly.
And then it happened, the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had, exploding through every cell, her mouth fighting against his so she could scream or sob, she wasn’t sure which would come first. But he didn’t let her go, only kissing her more demandingly as he fucked her through her high, only faster still, the stall creaking and their slapping skin making way too much noise.
Knowing anyone could hear them, or even see them if they looked over the stall top, and the way he wasn’t slowing down, only brought on another orgasm, her body shaking and tensing around him, her hands desperately pulling at his hair to the point she was sure it hurt.
But she didn’t care; she wanted to inflict the same amazing pain onto him that he was making her suffer though.
“Hard enough?” he asked, tauntingly through a grunt, her body going to total jelly as he continued and she had no energy to fight against the tickle he had her body feeling, “Fast enough?”
“Yes,” she whispered lowly, holding onto his strong shoulders, “fuck me,”
Feeling proud he’d given this perfect woman more than one orgasm, he felt inspired to continue, in a sick way wanting to torture her further, feeling her body was giving into its release.
He pulled out, the both of them whimpering at the loss, and quickly turned her around, ripping her panties down her thigh and letting them fall to her knees. He pressed a hand into her back, her front pressing into the stall.
He loved how long her legs were, shaking visibly with exhaustion, those strappy heels probably uncomfortable to stand on. Well, it was her own fault, he though. Women like her were always about looks first and comfort last.
When she looked back at him, with those lovely green eyes, he stepped forward in the small space, his almost painful erection sliding between her wet folds, still dripping from her release.
“Want to come again, baby?” he teased, loving the way she pouted and nodded, pressing her ass back against him so he’d slide against her once more.
He slipped into her again, the change in position making his nostrils flare with a sharp inhale of air. He was going to come so hard, with the view of her perfect ass, probably a result of pilates or spin class or some other stupid exercise rich Manhattan women in their twenties liked to do.
He easily pulled both her arms behind her back, smirking when she didn’t seem to mind, and held on, using them as a handle. He reached his free hand around her front, easily finding her clit, rubbing rough circles around it as he started a pace that was good for him, reminding her to, “be quiet,” as soon as she started to moan.
It felt like only a few seconds later that she was exploding around him again, quite literally the wettest he’d felt a woman be, tears rolling down the cheek her could see, as her mouth stayed open with a soundless cry.
“Please,” she begged, and he knew he couldn’t hold off any longer, fucking into her harder still. He moved both his hands to her hips as hers flew to the stall walls beside her head, helping steady herself as he fucked her without restraint, coming into her harder than he ever had before.
She moaned weakly when he finally slipped out of her, leaning into the stall because she felt like she was going to fall.
She felt their combined come running down her thighs, but she was so weak that she dared not move out of her position of dying a slow death against the stall.
She realized how dirty this was, the two of them in this men’s bathroom stall. It wasn’t dirty by any means, but it was a public restroom nonetheless.
And she smiled, having loved every second of it.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on getting her heart rate back to normal, on catching the breath that she just couldn’t during their carnal act.
When she felt him wiping up the mess they’d left on her thighs, she finally looked back, smiling slightly at the sight.
He was using toilet paper, which made sense because they were in a bathroom, but she had no idea how he so quickly looked put back together again. All it took was zipping himself up again and running a hand through his hair.
And here she was, a complete mess, her dress probably torn, her face covered in tears, with hot come still seeping out of her. Something about being so completely taken by him had her smiling.
When he wiped along her center she gasped, and he apologized quietly. She was still hyper sensitive there, and took the toilet paper he was offering to finishing cleaning herself.
She pulled her half torn panties back up her thighs, pulling her dress back down and into place.
When she looked back up at him, the two of them still so close together, he smiled smugly, and even though it made her heart flutter, she still wanted to smack him.
“Stay in here, let me check if anyone’s out there,” he told her.
The music had been their saving grace she hoped, as she let him leave the stall and worked on straightening herself up.
“It’s safe,” he called, Betty stepping out on still weak legs.
“I locked the door, so you have a few second to clean up in the mirror,” he told her, standing by the door.
“Thanks,” she told him, turning on the tap and almost gasping at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was a complete mess, mascara running down in streaks and her pink lipstick smudged. Her hair was a bit out of place too. Oh, what her mother would say now.
She used the water and paper towels to quickly make herself as presentable as possible, standing back when she was satisfied, giving him a nod. He’d been watching her with a half smile.
She rolled her eyes at the way his eyes racked over her body, but she did kind of like it. He’d just fucked her better than any other man had in the ten years she’d been sexually active, not to mention he’d given her better orgasms than she’d given herself. He could look at her any way he wanted, as far as she was concerned.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, watching as she checked if the coast was clear before the two of them stepped back into the nightclub. She smiled stupidly, excited at the thrill of it. A few people gave them knowing looks, seeing where they’d come from, but they were in the clear now.
“Should we head out?” he asked her, leaning down so she could hear him through the music.
She nodded. She was tired anyway, and eager to get into bed.
The two walked quietly through the casino, still in full swing at this time of night, heading for the elevators.
“What floor are you on?” he asked.
“Thirty six,” she answered, coming to hold onto his arm as he pressed the button.
He smiled sideways at her, pressing her into the wall as his lips came down to hers, in a much softer kiss than they’d shared before now.
When the doors dinged and opened they pulled apart, coming to stand between them so they wouldn’t close.
He looked down at her and pushed her hair behind her ear, seeing the tiredness in her eyes.
“Thanks, that was fun,” she whispered, leaning into him.
He chuckled, “Any time… Get some rest, I’ll see you later,”
She nodded, biting at that pouty lip of hers as she walked away and down the hall to the room she was sharing with Alice. Fuck, she was sexy.
He shook his head and got back into the elevator, checking his phone for any texts from his dad. Still nothing. He and Alice were still using the room. So he pressed the lobby bottom and decided to hang out downstairs until it was safe to go up. Maybe he’d go out and have a smoke.
This long weekend was going to be very interesting.