Chapter Text
If Betty knows anything, it’s that she hates Jughead Jones.
So she’s really not sure how she let herself end up here, half naked on a dirty old mattress, in the project booth at the abandoned drive-in theater, with him next to her.
She’s disgusted with herself.
He’s smoking a cigarette as she rolls away from him, shutting her eyes tightly to try and wish this situation away.
She feels him shift, then his arm touches hers as she sees he’s offering his flask of alcohol to her again.
She takes it, but doesn’t drink this time. She’d like to say she can blame her actions on the alcohol, but the truth is, she hadn’t had that much.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and she can just hear that something stupid is on the tip of his tongue.
What's wrong is that she’d told her life long best friend that she loves him, and he responded by telling her she was like a sister and he could never be with her in that way. The pity on Archie’s face broke her heart, and shattered any dreams she had of the future.
After that she didn’t want to go home, so, not knowing where else to go, she went to Pop’s. As always, Jughead’s loser gang were out front, cat calling anything that moved and wasting their lives away. She didn’t understand people without ambition.
When Jughead joined her inside without an invitation, she was too numb to tell him to leave her alone like she had dozens of other times. He may be sex on legs and he may have fucked almost every girl in school, but Betty was not looking to be one of the masses. She’d admit he was handsome, in a very dark kind of way, but she wants more than just looks.
She wants Archie, her best friend.
“What’s the matter, ponytail? Why’re you all alone?” he asked, stealing the cherry from the top of the strawberry milkshake she had yet to touch.
She had just looked at him, the storm inside her brewing, feeling like her skin was itching as it contained the explosion inside her.
Jughead frowned then. She had probably stunned him, what with having no witty comebacks and not telling him to leave her alone like she always did.
To her surprise, he didn’t say anything else for a while, just pulled a flask out of his leather jacket and slid it across the table to her.
She drank the alcohol inside. It burned but it felt good .
The smile on his face made her think of bad things. And when he asked her if she wanted to go for a ride on his bike, she let him take her hand and lead her away.
She ignored his friends, who were making some crude remarks, and then there was nothing - just the wind on her face as she held onto him and he drove fast through the blurry town.
That was when the unthinkable happen, when she watched him take his leather jacket and t-shirt off, revealing strong muscles and inked skin. She let him kiss her, let him touch her, let him take off her panties and fuck her.
The worst part was how incredible it felt, how hard she came and how much she wanted to do it all over again.
“That wasn’t your first time, was it?” he asks, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to the present.
She blinks away tears. “No, you asshole… Like I’d want my first time to be on a dirty old mattress that you’ve fucked a hundred other girls on,”
He doesn’t say anything, but she does hear him chuckle. She knows she’s right.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “you’re more special than the other hundred,”
She rolls her eyes then swallows hard.
“I’m surprised, really,” he continued to talk, “I really thought you were a virgin, you sure act like one,”
What does that mean , she wonders, pulling a face, still turned away from him and not particularly wanting to turn back around.
It’s not that she was experienced or anything, but she had slept with Reggie a few times, just to get it out of the way. It hadn’t been good or enjoyable, truth was Jughead was the first person to give her an orgasm other than herself.
When she doesn’t say anything, he goes on. “I get it, you’re a lady and a lady never tells… But I’m sorry, ponytail, there’s no way what happened with us tonight is going to stay a secret,”
That makes her turn around. He’s no longer smoking, his hands up behind his head as he lays out all relaxed and smug looking.
“I don’t want anyone knowing we did this,” she says, as sternly as she can in her fragile state.
He shrugs, uninterested.
“Jughead,” she says, sighing in quick defeat. If Archie found out, if anyone found out, what would that make her look like?
“If you don’t want anyone to know, then it’s gonna cost you,”
She frowns. She doesn’t have any money. The most she does is tutor and babysit and her mother takes that from her right away, putting it towards her college fund. “I don’t have any money,”
He smirks and she feels her blood run cold. “I don’t want your money,”
It makes her sick wondering what he does want.
She watches as he shifts to his side, watching her with lazy dark blue eyes. Her heart rate spikes as soon as his hand comes over her ribs, right under her breast, then travels down her stomach.
She squeezes her thighs together and reaches down to pull at her dress, which is half bunched up still.
He tsks at her, like she’s a naughty child, and she’s not sure what it is, but her thighs ease up slightly, the arousal pooling again in her lower stomach.
“If you want me to keep this a secret,” he says, his hand traveling lower and then pulling her dress up, “then you’re going to have to give me another one of those beautiful breathy orgasms again,”
Her body feels weak as soon as his hand is touching her pussy again, his fingers sliding between the sleek folds.
“Open your legs,” he demands lowly, and she does, spreading them a little further.
She feels the weight of his leg over hers, the one that’s by his side, and soon she’s closing her eyes, letting him control her body like he had not long ago.
He groans as he comments about how wet she is. There’s something so wrong about all this, about him pretty much blackmailing her into this, but she can hardly care when the way he’s making her feel is helping her forget.
“You may not be a virgin,” he whispers against her ear, “but your tight little pussy sure feels like you are,”
Betty gasps as he pushes two fingers into her while he talks. His thumb is circling her tight nerve and the combination of feeling so full from his fingers and so needy from his caress is making her want to give him what he wants.
She moans, pressing her body down and welcoming the pressure every time he pushes in, deeper, harder, stroking the spot that has been impossible for her to find on her own. She had only made herself come from clit stimulation, but this was so much more intense.
She bites her lip, arching her back into it and pressing out her breasts. He had pulled her dress down her chest earlier, but she had covered back up again afterwards.
She regrets it now, her nipples straining against the fabric and aching for his rough hands.
“I hate you,” she says, but sounds far too unconvincing when she follows it with a wanton moan.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, but she knows it’s not really a question. He’s taunting her.
“Fuck,” she finally breathes, feeling closer, so close, and the way he’s moving his fingers and working her has her there in no time.
The world stops, and for those few seconds nothing exists but the pure bliss that is an empty uncluttered mind. Grinding down on his hand, she comes even harder than the other couple of times, trying to make it last as long as she can.
She realizes as she begins to come down from her high that she’s been gripping onto the mattress so hard her finger nails hurt, the flask forgotten on the side. She eases up her hands and begins to close her legs, suddenly feeling very dirty about what she had just let him do.
“Did I say you could close them?”
Her mush of a brain tries to catch up, and she frowns as she looks at him. He really is handsome, in all the bad boy kind of ways, dark perfectly messy hair and a jaw that could slice through hot bread.
She realizes what he means when he smacks her thigh and she watches him sit up, moving himself down between her legs.
Her eyes grow wide then, trying to close her legs but unable to now with both his hands holding her open. She had never had anyone go down on her before, and despite everything that just happened, she’s really insecure about it.
She’s breathing even harder now, looking at him with a worried expression as he gives her a devilish one in return.
“Don’t worry, just lay back and give me another one,”
She whimpers as she drops her head back down on the mattress, biting her lip and looking at the ceiling. How many orgasms did he want? She wasn’t sure she even could again.
But then she feels his tongue lick from her opening up between her folds and over her sensitive clit, and right away she knows her next one will come quickly.
“Oh my god,” she says, trembling as he does it again.
He chuckles and she feels the vibrations. Not knowing where to put her hands, she grabs onto his hair. It makes him growl and dive into her more fully, shaking his face from side to side against her and making her cry out.
“No,” she gasps, but what she really means is, Yes, oh god yes .
He sucks on her clit and she’s red in the face, embarrassed but somehow even more turned on by the embarrassment. Then, like a ton of bricks falling on top of her, her breath is knocked out of her lungs and she is crying out, her legs shaking as he continues to eat her out unapologetically.
When he’s done she’s got no energy left, she can’t even roll her eyes at the cocky way he pulls back and wipes her off his face.
“Good job,” he laughs, coming to lay back down next to her.
She feels destroyed.
“Well?” she breathes, “I gave you what you wanted,”
He reaches his hand over her and caresses the stray hair off her face. “I won’t consider our deal sealed until I’ve properly gotten that tight ponytail of yours down,”
She really, really hates him.