Work Text:
ANON PROMPT- Betty and Jughead are in a New York high rise apartment. It’s cold outside but Betty doesn’t care. Jug comes out on the balcony with her. The thrill of the height and exhibitionism is a release and lack of control she needs. Jughead goes down on her with her head and hair hanging over the open air, him keeping her steady with a grip on her hips. Then he takes her from behind, leaning over the balcony edge, her breasts caressed by the wind and the cold, spanking and hair pulling is a bonus.
Betty hates corporate events; the small serves of food, the pretentious men in suits, with equally snotty women hanging off their arms and the required schmoozing.
The good thing - Open bar, with expensive booze.
As she downed her fifth (or was it sixth?) glass of champagne, Betty was ready to call it a night. The spaghetti straps of her dress were digging into her shoulders, and the heels on her feet were causing blisters - despite the numerous bandaids that she had applied earlier that evening.
Reaching her into clutch, she pulled out her phone, and sent off an SMS to Jughead, telling him she was ready to go, and asking him where he was. Her eyes scanned the glitzy bathroom in an attempt to find an unoccupied seat.
(When her eyes landed on a seat in the very far corner, she thought she’d won the lottery.)
After a few moments her phone vibrated in her hand. It was a reply from Jughead - he was in the bathroom and would be out shortly. Betty let out a sigh of relief. Thank god, she huffed.
Eyeing the bathroom, she saw him exit, and stood up, waving to gain his attention.
He nodded in acknowledgment and made his way over, stopping only four times to shake hands and chuckle with more pretentious men in suits, and kiss the same snotty women on their blushed up cheeks.
Betty tried really hard not to let her eyes roll to the back of skull - for total fear of drawing unwanted attention to herself.
With hands on hips, she caught his eye and simply shrugged. He smirked, and made his final stop before appearing at her side, “You’re particularly antsy tonight, my love, are you okay?”
“My dress is itchy, and my feet hurt. I looked at the weather, and there’s rain forecast.”
“We can just get an Uber?” He stated.
“We’re like ten minutes away, there’s no point in ordering in Uber. It’ll take longer to get one.” With pursed lips, and a raised eyebrow, Jughead knew this wasn’t an argument he was going to win, “plus, I’ve been thinking about you,” grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him closer, “and I couldn’t find any panties to wear under my dress, and I’m kind of worried that I may be close to ruining it.” Betty teases.
Jughead’s eyes widened, “no panties?”
Betty shook her head, raising the corner of her mouth to a smirk.
*
Twenty minutes later (five or so of those minutes in a dark alley, with her leg hitched around his waist, and Jughead being knuckle deep in her pussy) and they were at the door, Jughead fumbling with the entry card, “why is this thing not working?” He barked.
“Because you’re shaking, and I think your fingers are wet,” Betty stated, grabbing his hand and popping his fingers into her mouth, “shouldn’t be as slippery now.” Shooting him a playful wink.
“Betty Cooper, you will be the death of me.” His words full of lust and want.
“You’re wasting time, Juggie.” She says unamused.
*
Stepping into the luxurious apartment, Betty feels all the air leave her lungs. Taking in her surroundings, she smells him before she feels him.
Whiskey, pine and the faint scent of cigars.
She lets her head drop to the side ever so slightly, and within seconds of handing him an open invitation, he’s trailing open mouth kisses down the expanse of her neck.
“Undress me, Juggie.” She mewls. “Then take me outside.”
“As you wish, my love.” His long fingers slipping the spaghetti straps of her dress down her slender arms, kissing the red marks said straps left behind.
Leaving the dress to pool at her waist, Jughead commands her to turn around, which she happily obliges.
Jughead growls at the sight before him, “you are so fucking beautiful, Betty.” He admires, taking both nipples between the pads of his thumbs and forefingers, before taking the right in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the little pink bud.
He palms the other, before switching and moving his mouth to the left.
“I want you to take me outside. Now.” She commands.
Jughead pulls away, and Betty grips his shoulders as she steps out of her red sequinned dress.
Taking her hand, they both walk to the glass sliding door and pull it open.
It’s cold, and Betty’s nipples immediately stand to attention, she shivers.
“Betts, lets go inside. It’s cold out.”
Betty shakes her head, “No,” grabbing his arm, “I want to let go, please.”
(She’s not one to plead - unless some part of him is buried deep inside.)
Jughead turns her around and collides his lips to hers. Betty melts immediately, as his tongue desperately searches her mouth. Her fingers find his hair, and she pulls hard, a noise coming from his mouth that’s a mixture of pleasure and pain.
Betty winces as she feels her lower back connect with the glass balcony behind her. It’s cold. It sends a shiver down the length of her spine, but she feels a warmth between her thighs.
“Is this what you want?” Jughead questions, as his fingers tease her inner thigh, agonizingly close to where she needs him. He can feel the warmth radiating from her pussy, and he drops to his knees, ignoring the jolt of pain the reverberates through his shins. As the lights of the New York skyline showcase her slickness, Jughead lets out a lowly groan.
He runs his hands up her thighs, and grips behind her knee to place it over his shoulder, “Relax, baby girl,” he mutters, as he runs his finger up her folds, and spreading her lips wide open, “so pretty.” He whispers. He blows a puff of hot breath on her exposed cunt, and shivers at the sound she lets out.
With her lips still spread wide open, he flattens his tongue and strokes the length of her sex. Stopping just shy of her aching bud - throbbing for his touch, the touch of his warm soft tongue.
He smirks as he starts lapping up her flowing juices. He looks up and her head has fallen back, the wind not only catching her golden blonde locks, but also broadcasting her moans and cries of pleasure all over New York City.
Finally letting go of her lips, he seeks out that little bud of pleasure, and his fingers dance around her centre. Jughead knows, the moment he latches onto her clit, and pushes his fingers into her and curls, there’s every chance the neighbors beside them, below them and above will likely call hotel Reception and make a noise complaint.
(But Jughead doesn’t care.)
He wants Betty’s cum on his fingers, his chin and in his mouth.
“Juggie! Fuck!” Betty cries out, her voice floating around the night sky, almost on command, as he latches on to her clit, nibbling and sucking, whilst thrusting and curling two fingers into her pussy. It’s a quick orgasm, a hard release. Betty can barely stand, her legs are shaking and her body is limp - it’s almost like every single bone in her body has disappeared.
Jughead continues to lap up every single drop of her, he traces a finger up her thigh and stands, “Open,” he commands. She opens her mouth, her eyes still hooded and her face still dazed, he pops his finger into her open mouth and she moans at the taste.
“Do you like?” He asks.
She nods easily, as she sucks his finger clean of herself.
“That’s a good girl.” Praising her.
(He knows she loves that.)
“Now, turn around. I want you to look at the pretty lights as I fuck you, hard.” He instructs, surprising himself a little with the authority in his tone.
Betty does as she’s told, and turns around. Her hands gripping the rail, still feeling light headed from her orgasm, not five minutes earlier.
“You’re so pretty.” He says, simply, so matter of factly, “and this is too.”
His palm rubbing slow circles on her ass, “but, Betty. What didn’t you do tonight?” He asks.
“I didn’t wear panties.” She whimpers.
“No. No, you didn’t. That’s not what a good girl does.” The sound of skin slapping skin echos around the walls of the balcony. Her ass stinging from the spanking.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Betty Cooper. And you’re lucky I love you.” He teases, grabbing a fistful of hair, pulling her back, “so fucking much.” He whispers in her ear, before turning her face to his, and pushing his lips to hers.
He feels her weaken before him.
Jughead hums his approval, “That's my girl.”
Pushing her forward again, Jughead pulls back and unbuckles his belt, pops the button on his slacks and unzips his fly, pushing them down his legs and letting them pool at his ankles.
He reaches down and runs the pad of his thumb of the head of his cock, and grins at the ever present pre-cum that’s there. He grips her hair again, and pulls her back, her eyes fall to his thumb, the light catching what’s there, and she automatically opens her mouth and is silently begging for it. Her tongue darts out and laps it up. Moaning at the taste, “fuck me, Juggie. I wanna scream your name in the middle of New York City.”
Jughead doesn’t need to be told twice, “hold on, Betts.” He grabs his cock, jerking himself a few times, before crouching and lining himself up to her entrance.
There’s no time for slow thrusts tonight. Not right now. She wants it hard, and she wants it fast.
Betty wants to scream his name.
His head nudges her folds, and he’s already groaning. She’s so wet, and it's with one quick motion, he slams into her. Just as it happens, the heavens open above them, and it’s the torrential rain that had been forecasted to hit New York.
The rain is coming down hard, almost as hard as he’s ploughing into her. Betty’s mixed cries and screams of pleasure are lost amongst the sound of the rain hitting the windows around them.
Jughead can just hear her, his fingers are gripping her waist - he doesn’t know if he’s holding too hard, but it feels like there may be bruises for days to follow. He needs (wants) to really hear her, once again, grabbing a chunk of hair, he pulls her back, “who do you belong to, Betty?” He questions, as he continues his relentless pounding.
“You, Juggie!” She screams. “I belong to you! Fuck!”
He can feel her walls tightening around him, and that’s all it takes. Two final pumps into her, and his movements fall sloppy, as his orgasm hits him like the rain falling around them. He falls onto her, his grip loosening on her waist, and her head is hanging over the balcony.
“I can’t tell if I’m sweaty, or if it’s rain.” She murmurs, slowly catching her breath.
“I’d say both, once we can walk, we’ll go have a shower.”
Betty giggles, “sounds good, Juggie. I’m tired as well.”
Jughead chuckles, “we’ve had a big night.”
“I’m glad we got a babysitter.” Her mouth turning upward, as she looks around at him.
“Happy ten year anniversary, baby girl.”