Work Text:
The sun had begun to set and Jughead was stomping up and down their apartment stairs, arms full of blankets.
Completely oblivious, Betty sat on their couch, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied.
When his task was seemingly complete, he stood gazing down at her with his hands on his hips.
She had been tip toeing closer to her breaking point as she tried to juggle school, work, and social obligation. He knew she was at her wits’ end, and if she didn’t get pulled back from the edge soon, she would fall into her anxiety with full force. She needed a mental break but rarely paused to give one to herself.
It gave him no choice.
Betty was pulled, quite literally, from her work when he grabbed her hand, dragging her from their apartment. He had thrown a mess of supplies, blankets, pillows, and sheets into his old, beaten pick-up truck.
“Let’s go camping for the night in Fox Forest,” he demanded more than questioned, already opening up the passenger door for his very confused girlfriend.
“We didn’t plan for camping.”
“You didn’t plan for camping.”
“But what about our camping supplies?”
“They’re in the truck.”
She blinked. “I don’t even have shoes, Jug.”
“They’re in the truck,” he repeated, gesturing to the floorboard where they sat.
“I don’t have a change of clothes either.”
“They’re in there too.”
“You picked out my clothes?” she inquired, her eyebrows raising with surprise.
Jughead chucked, shaking his head. “Would you have picked them out otherwise or would you have insisted you needed to work more? Picking out your clothes is the least of my concerns, Betts.”
“I do need to work more, Jug. I should be studying. I don’t want to be underprepared for exams. I still have work tomorrow evening. Plus, Veronica really wanted—”
“Veronica—” he interrupted, dropping his hands onto her shoulders and squeezing. “—can wait. Studying can wait. You can call off of work if you need to, I’ll pick up an extra shift, no problem. You need to put yourself first before—”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He knew she would be stubborn about this, that’s why he sprung it on her like he did. A feeling of dread dropped down into his gut, she needed this, they both did.
His jaw grit in determination as he met her eyes, cupping his hands around her neck to rub his thumbs along her cheeks. “Betts, you study every day. You work yourself into the ground. I think you’ve got to be the most prepared student in your classes. But you focus so much on everything and everyone else that you forget to breathe.” Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers, nudging their noses together. “Forget about all of that for the night, come breathe with me.”
Betty glanced down with a worried expression, chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation.
The moments felt like hours and Jughead held his own breath through each of them.
Finally, her face softened, shoulders dropping with concession. She gripped his forearms, meeting his eyes with a smile before nodding against him.
Grinning with relief, he pressed a tender kiss to her mouth then her forehead. He dropped his hands to grab the backs of her thighs and lift her up against him.
She giggled out his name, bracing herself on his shoulders before he turned and set her down on the bench seat.
It was time for an escape.
The sun had long set, the stars shone brightly in the dark, and the time for innocent moments were hours past.
They were far beyond soft kisses, Betty undulating on top of Jughead, one hand fisted firmly in his hair. Her pale, full breasts bounced rhythmically in front of his face, and despite the natural beauty above them, he couldn’t think of anything more enticing than her.
If he had been asked right then, he would have sworn with reverence that the night sky had been made for her to be under it. The moon shone to illuminate her skin. The breeze came through the trees to cool the sweat along the line of her hair. The cicadas sang to chant her name.
Jughead imagined the pages of endless novels he could have written, all dedicated to her, and him, and this, and them — if only his keyboard were under his fingers.
But right then he didn’t care about words, pages, or books; there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to fuck her until both of their racing writers’ minds quieted and there were no thoughts between them, only cells that belonged together.
So instead of keys, his fingers worked her hips. His words of adoration were transcribed by his breath against the dip of the throat, the jut of her collarbone, and the curve of her jaw. She was his favorite book, made of skin, blood, and bone.
He canted his hips up toward hers, wanting to press further inside her, then cast a fleeting thought to wish that he had taken the time to remove his clothes.
Although Betty’s body was gloriously bare to the night air, he was mostly dressed. His chest was covered by a thin tank top and, in their urgency, his jeans had only been pushed partway down his thighs, restricting his thrusts. He had been desperate to uncover every inch of her smooth skin and hadn’t given much thought to his own.
Tightening her grip in his hair, she yanked with enough force to cause a sharp but pleasant sensation to jolt across his scalp, derailing his train of thought entirely. She dropped her head down and slid her lips down the side of his neck, breath coming out in hot huffs over his skin. Suddenly, she bit down at the curve of his shoulder, hard enough that the mark would surely be an angry, dark purple the next morning.
Betty liked pain with her pleasure, they both did. It grounded them, sending a rush to the senses while quieting overbearing thoughts.
Which was why when Jughead packed the truck, he added a small bag of items in anticipation of the direction of the night. One of their favorite toys adorned Betty’s body — small clamps clipped onto her pert nipples with a chain dangling between them.
He released his grip on one of her hips, moving to deliver a swift spank to her bottom.
Moaning loudly, Betty pressed her clit into his pelvic bone at the slap, tilting her ass out to his hand while rocking her hips to stimulate herself against him.
Jughead explored her body, tracing a slow path from the dimples on her low back, up the curve of her spine, to the nape of her neck.
“More, give me more,” she mouthed against his skin, sucking a trail of small bruises across his shoulder and marking him as hers.
He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back abruptly to expose her throat. Raising his hand from its grasp on her hip, he hooked his index finger into the chain swaying between her breasts and tugged.
Betty’s mouth dropped open in a strangled whine, eyes squeezing shut in an expression of unabashed pleasure.
“Enough?” He inquired, studying her face.
She opened her eyes, gazing dazedly at the stars above them. “Never.”
Twisting her hair around his hand to get a better grip, Jughead pulled harder. He simultaneously tugged the chain, causing her chest to push forward as her head and shoulders dropped further back, body bowing beautifully under his attention.
Betty loved to push the limits of control in their relationship; she wanted him to dominate her, but she also wanted to assert her own dominance. It was a constant push and pull, back and forth, between them.
He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He fucking loved the play for power with her. They could push one another, read each other, with perfection. This dynamic they had created was founded in an ironclad trust, years in the making.
“I need you, Juggie,” she panted. Grabbing his jeans, she curled her fingers, white knuckled, into the fabric as she held the precarious position he had maneuvered her into. She began to bounce herself up and down in short, quick movements on his cock. With every thrust of her body, she succeeded in adding stress on the already taut chain attached to her nipples.
He let out a soft hum, keeping his hold firm. Leaning down, he nosed under her chin then mouthed gentle presses of his teeth down the column of her throat. “You have me, you’ll always have me,” he promised with fervour against the hummingbird thud of her heartbeat at her pulse point.
Of course he was hers, he would never truly belong with anyone else. There was no one else for him, no other like Betty.
But she was his too. And she loved it when he showed her.
“Mine,” she uttered in devotion, lashes fluttering as her jaw clenched. “Yours, yours, yours,” she begged. Her thrusts down became even more hurried and she tilted her hips forward, rubbing her clit into him each time. Her nipples were hard, deep rose pebbles, darker than the tantalizing flush that had crept up high on her cheekbones.
She was so close to falling over the edge, he just needed to get her there.
Nodding slowly, Jughead leaned closer and brushed light kisses across her shoulder, up to her ear. His lips ghosted against the sensitive skin of her ear then, with a breath as warm as the summer night, words tumbled out in a deep, demanding tone, “Come for me then.”
He dropped the chain, sliding the flat of his palm up her breast bone to her throat, still exposed by the restraint of her hair in his hand. Pressing in, he restricted her breathing, turning her heavy pants into shallow puffs.
Betty’s fingers yanked at the fabric of his jeans in her fists, mouthing wordless pleas before she bit down on her bottom lip.
He guided her forward by the throat, until the cold metal of the clamps brushed against his chest. He adjusted his hold to cut off her breath then gave one more sharp tug to her hair before lowering his hand, delivering as sharp of a spank as he could manage given their position, to her ass. She let out a strangled moan of pleasure and squeezed her internal muscles around his cock, firmly enough that his own breath caught. But her body remained pulled taut, shoulders still tight with the stress that had been plaguing her.
“You’ve got to let go, Betty.” Jughead released his hold on her throat and let her draw in a deep breath. When he knew the oxygen was rushing to her brain, he slapped her ass again, just as firmly.
A rough, “Fuck!” ripped from her throat. She raised her hips and he drew up to meet her with a few hard thrusts, then yanked her back down, pushing deeply into her at the angle she needed. Rolling her hips against his, she stimulated her g-spot with her movements.
She was so close to releasing all of her tension and anxiety and he wanted nothing more than to get her there.
He spanked her, harsh, swift slaps across her ass in succession, over and over again. Every time she tensed, he would tighten his grip on her throat, restricting her breathing, then releasing and repeating the process. Inundating her with waves of sensation until she downright couldn't think of anything else but what she was feeling right there, in the moment, with him.
When her muscles finally relaxed, arms falling slack against her sides, he stopped to rest his palm against the smooth skin of her ass. It was burning hot. He squeezed softly before rubbing in slow, soothing circles.
Wedging his free hand between them, he spread his open palm across her lower abdomen and found her clit with his thumb.
Jughead released her ass, took hold of her hair once more, and pulled until her back arched.
He wanted to watch her breasts bounce, the chain swaying with every thrust. It was mesmerizing. She was so fucking beautiful.
With a sudden tenderness, he brushed her hair back from her brow then ran his finger tips over her features before continuing down, giving each clamp a tug and eliciting a gasp.
“You’re going to come for me.” Leaning down, he whispered a light flick of his tongue across the hard, over the sensitive points of Betty’s nipples before pulling the chain again. “Let go. All the way. Breathe.” He slipped his thumb back and forth across her clit at the pressure he knew she needed.
He applied steady pressure to her hair and canted his hips up into her, nudging into her g-spot with every thrust.
“J—Ju, I—I—” she stammered as tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, blissed out — she was flying.
Yanking her head back, Jughead continued strumming her clit. “Come. Now, Betts.” He caught the chain between his teeth and pulled.
Betty stilled, limbs shaking, eyes shining, mouth caught in an open gasp, before she cried out and collapsed against his chest, into his waiting embrace. Her stress had melted away into euphoria, coming apart in his hands.
She fell like shooting stars.
And he marveled in wonder, a simple man beneath her celestial body.