Work Text:
He’d been gone for thirteen days, eighteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and eight seconds. But who was counting?
Betty.
Betty was counting.
Jughead had left for a conference for work. He’d been six hours away for far too long and Betty was getting far too frustrated in his absence.
They’d been married for five years already at that point. She always hated when he went away and she couldn’t go with him. This time, she had to stay behind due to work of her own to finish for the semester with her students.
Whenever one of them left town, no matter how long, they had a standing agreement. There’d be no touching. No amount of teasing and torture was off limits, but if either touched themselves, there would be punishment when the other returned.
When she woke up the morning Jughead was intended to return, she decided she’d played fair the entirety of his trip. Maybe he needed a some motivation to come home a little faster. While she didn’t condone speeding on the highway, she wanted her husband home and she wanted him home quickly.
He spent his time away sending her suggestive pictures throughout the day. That was nothing new, but after the first week he stepped up his game. It went from suggestive pictures of his breakfast to well angled and cropped photographs of him just out of the shower or lying in a hotel bed.
She sent her fair share as well. Pictures before bed, showing a little more cleavage than she normally would, one of her on her stomach, her legs angled behind her with her toes pointed up to showcase her gams, all the things she knew would make his pants a little tighter than comfortable.
It would be a few hours after she was done with her class, but he was finally coming home. She got ready for the day as usual,
Standing in front of her closet, Betty contemplated what to wear for her husband’s homecoming. It took her a few minutes of standing and perusing her usual pastel sweaters and jeans hanging from wooden hangers neatly in the closet.
Perhaps she should wear all his favorites? Black thigh-high stockings, circle skirt, striped long sleeve sweater, and the plum infinity scarf and beanie set her mother made her. It was nearing the middle of December, after all.
But for underneath? She rummaged through the drawers that Jughead never went through to find the lingerie she’d bought for a special occasion. Figuring this was as special as anything upcoming, why keep it hidden away..
The white lace bra fit her perfectly, almost as if it were painted on. Below the underwire, there was an additional panel of lace, scalloped at the edges with the cups to match. The unlined lace made it easy to see straight through to her nipples. It was one of the reasons she purchased it.
The matching panties had strategic holes just below the elastic with the same lace to barely cover her hips, ass, and already aching sex.
Running her hands down the curve of her waist, Betty looked herself up and down in the mirror. She felt sexy in it, and knowing how Jughead would react only made her feel better about the decision to play the game.
She slid the stockings up her calf and secured them to her thighs then stepped into the skirt and before zipping up the back, pulled the sweater over her head and tucked it in,securing it all with a braided leather belt. She left her hair down, knowing he would pull it out of her signature ponytail anyway. Securing the hat over her head, she fiddled with the scarf until it hung loosely around her neck before stepping into a simple pair of Mary-Janes.
Turning in front of the mirror, she took in her full appearance.
“He’s not gonna know what to do with himself.” Delighted, she stared herself in the eye before grabbing her phone and snapping a few photos.
She sent one off, knowing he was already awake and gearing up to leave to come home soon.
Betty: How do we feel about this? Too inappropriate for college freshman?
Jughead: I you uh. Ooph. Damn.
Jughead: You look beautiful as always, my love.
Jughead: I can’t wait to be home. I miss you.
Betty: I miss you, too, baby.
Betty: Gotta run to class. Talk to you soon. <3
Clicking her phone to black, she chucked to herself. He had no idea what was coming. She taught her class with as much enthusiasm as she always did, letting them leave a little early under the guise of going to the library and working on their final papers.
Betty hurried to her office. Taking off the hat and scarf, she fixed her hair from the indentations and frizz before snapping another picture without the offending garments. She took extra care to pop her chest and sent it to Jughead.
Betty: T-minus five hours until you’re home.
She smiled to herself, wondering how long it would take for him to catch onto what she was doing. She arranged the rest of the work in her office to take care of in a few days. For now, she wanted to get home before the next hour hit.
She contemplated the whole way home how to take the next shot to send to him. He was driving with a coworker but somehow that thought made her want to send something a little more racy. She figured it would add a layer to the game. Hopefully he wasn’t behind the wheel just yet.
Setting up the camera on her phone to a self timer to be triggered by a hand gesture, she framed the next shot so it seemed she didn’t know it was happening, almost as if someone was shooting it without her knowing. With the phone propped at the foot of her desk, she angled it toward the bed. She sat down and activated the timer, knowing she only had five seconds to get into position. Betty shimmied to the edge of the bed, knees slightly separated.
When she saw the flash on the camera, she toed off her shoes and moved them to the side. Her hands trailed up her legs to the top of her thigh-high and slowly began taking it off, letting her fingers drag back down her leg as she did. Folding it neatly, she began on the other. She took that one off even slower than the first, knowing it would get his attention.
This would be when he figured out her game.
When she was finished taking off the stockings, she stood and smoothed out her skirt, taking extra care not to reveal what was underneath it. That he would have to wait for. She picked her phone up from the floor, slowly dragging the camera lens up her body until she landed on her own face, flashing him a wink just before she hit the stop record button.
Betty: Are you driving?
Jughead: No, its Dave’s turn. I’m stuck in the backseat because Brian gets carsick. Lucky me.
Betty: Oh. Even better.
Betty: T-minus 4 hours until you’re home.
With that last text, she sent the video to him; waiting for his response was just as much of a tease to her that video would be to him. She waited patiently until her phone vibrated next to her.
Jughead: Excuse me, Mrs. Jones. Are you trying to tell me something?
Betty: I have no idea what you’re talking about. How’s your drive home?
Jughead: Oh. Is that how it’s going to be? Alright. Just you wait.
Betty simply sent a wink emoji in response. She knew her husband was smart. It wouldn’t take him long to figure it out. What she hadn’t anticipated was him playing along once he did.
Her phone lit up again - a picture message. The angle was odd, but she’d know what she was looking at anywhere; a discrete glimpse of what she’d done to him.
She could see the outline of his erection perfectly. She imagined it straining against the taught denim of his usual black jeans, him fidgeting in his seat to get comfortable, unable to do anything about it. She bit her lip in anticipation of his return, needing him home now .
She busied herself until the next hour rolled around. Debating whether to lose the shirt or the skirt, she ultimately decided the skirt needed to go. This hour was a series of pictures. Full body, then the belt dangling in her fingers, followed by the skirt around her ankles, still careful not to reveal the pure white lace underneath.
Betty: Three hours.
Jughead: Wait until I get my hands on you.
Laughing to herself, she could practically see him with his toes tapping impatiently while someone else drove too slow for his liking.
Betty walked around the house in just her sweater and panties, after making sure the curtains were drawn so there’d be no one peering in. She folded and put away the laundry, made sure the dishes were clean, and straightened their bedroom all while waiting to send her next photo.
Angling her front facing camera down, this time only revealing the freckle above her belly button, the lingerie still under wraps. It was enough for him to see she'd taken off her sweater, but for good measure, she snapped a picture of it on the floor.
Betty: Hurry home, baby. It would be a shame for you to miss what's under that sweater. ;)
Jughead: So help me God, Elizabeth Jones. If you are not in our bed when I walk through that door, I am not responsible for anything that may break.
She knew that would get him behind the wheel and home faster.
Counting down the minutes, she purposefully waited until after the one hour mark to start getting ready to take the next picture. She scooted herself off the bed, her back facing the door as she reached for the clasp of her bright white lace bra.
As she’d gotten the first hook undone, she heard a commotion outside the bedroom door. She’d closed it before settling in for the last hour, deciding if she couldn’t see him coming it would make the thrill that much better.
As she unhooked the next clasp, she turned her head over her shoulder. As if on cue, the bedroom door swung open and banged against the bookcase, knocking a few loose items to the floor.
Her smirk grew as she turned around, hand still on the final hook of the bra, waiting to snap if off at the perfect time.
“Welcome home, honey,” she said, her voice almost sickly sweet, innocent.
“As heavenly as you look right now, if you don’t get that off quickly, it’s not going to make it off in one piece,” Jughead practically growled, eyes dark with desire and voice dripping with need. His eyes darted to the items that fell to the floor.
Eyes following his, she knew immediately what he was getting at.
He took a step to his left, closing the door violently behind him and bent down to pick up his switchblade. It had been years since he’d used it, but tonight seemed as good a night as any to start again.
It flicked open and he ran his thumb down the blade, testing the sharpness of it.
Quickly unhooking the last clasp, the lace fell to the floor and Betty stood before her husband in nothing but lace panties and a smirk.
He took three very measured steps toward her. Then another. And another. He tossed the blade to the bed, still within reach. His nose brushed against hers, his breath fanning across her face. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in, their lips only a hair apart. He waited for her to lean the rest of the way, for her to jut her bottom lip out to capture his.
His fingers twitched at his sides waiting, but after a short while, Jughead realized she wouldn’t break first - as much as he could feel that she wanted to radiating off of her. He’d happily give in everyday if it meant he got to kiss her.
Hands finding her hips his lips caught hers, there was little in the world that would stop them. His palms slid up the curves of her body, bypassing her exposed chest, and went straight to her neck. Swiping his thumbs at her jawline, he mirrored the swipe of his tongue against her lips, begging for entrance. After his second attempt, their tongues danced together, passion radiating through them with every swirl.
A low groan from the back of his throat made Betty giggle to herself, vibrating through him. His hands moved down her body again, across her shoulders, down her chest to her ribs and settled back on her hips, thumbs tucked under the elastic of the lace covering them.
He tugged forward before releasing the elastic against her skin with a snap, that had her hissing at the sudden sting.
“Y’know,” he started, grabbing the switchblade from the edge of the bed, “what you did today wasn’t very nice.” Dropping to his knees in front of his wife, eyes level with her bellybutton, he slowly dragged the dull edge of the blade up her thigh. Sliding the cold steel under the elastic, he looked her right in the eye and pulled, slicing the fabric apart.
He continued to drag the blade across the top of the garment, slowly working his way to the other side where he repeated the action. This time, Betty shifted her weight, helping him achieve his goal of getting her completely naked.
Jughead tugged the lace out from between her legs, careful to give just the slightest bit of friction against her aching center as he did. He smirked when he heard the frustrated moan drip from her lips.
“It’s still technically in one piece, you know that, right?”
Jughead pursed his lips together, unamused by her sass.
Folding the blade closed, he tucked it away on the nightstand before running his palms up her calves to the back of her knees. In one fell swoop, Jughead had Betty up and on the mattress as he settled between her knees.
He was still fully dressed, the rough denim sending shivers up her spine as he moved against her, on her.
His weight settled over top of her as he claimed her lips again, not asking for permission to explore her mouth this time. He didn’t want to waste any time, he needed to taste her. Her hips bucked against his as he left a trail of open mouth kisses down the column of her throat. He nipped at her collarbone, just at the hollow the way he knew she liked. Working his way down, he ran the point of his tongue across the bone to her sternum.
Hands at her waist, his fingers were slowly drawing pictures of things he’d never seen before on her skin. He could feel her shiver under his touch and that only made him want to continue with the slow, teasing pace.
Betty was getting frustrated. She’d threaded her fingers through his hair, keeping his head at her chest as she arched her back into his mouth. Her hips buckled when he finally got to her already strained peaks. She needed to feel more of his skin, had been without it for two weeks and it was driving her absolutely insane. Pulling at the flannel around his waist, it dropped unceremoniously to the floor before she began to claw at the cotton at his chest, nearly stretching out the collar of his t-shirt. She sat up as she successfully pulled the shirt over his head.
Her fingers grazed over the newly exposed skin, lingering over his heart and feeling it beat against his ribs in time with hers. Her hands made it to his belt, the muscles contracting under her touch. Once the belt was loose, she popped the button of his jeans and slowly unzipped his pants, trying not to let her eagerness show. She could feel how hard he was already, something that never ceased to amaze her -- the effect she had on him. Her hands were shaking in anticipation.
He stopped her before her hands could dip into the waistband of his boxers. Seeing the pout on her face was enough to drive him mad, but he wanted to take his time. He was deprived of her for two weeks, but the way he was acting you would think it had been years.
Jughead kissed her again, his hand at the back of her neck pulling her closer still, sucking the air from her lungs. When he broke their kiss, she was panting, desperate for more. More of his kiss. More of his touch. More of just him.
“Were you a good girl while I was gone?” he asked, his hands slowly traveling down her torso. Her body shivered under his touch, her breathing labored, waiting for him to finally reach the place she wanted him.
He could see how wet she was, the build up to teasing over the course of two weeks, culminating in the moment he arrived home. He knew his answer. It was always him who broke the rules, rarely ever her. She had more presence of mind for self-control than he did.
She nodded furiously at his question. She’d been good, no matter how tempted she’d been while home alone in bed thinking of the things he’d sent her throughout the day. It was admittedly more difficult this time around, the more brazen he’d gotten with his texts and pictures. She’d nearly called him after the first week to get off to the sound of his voice, but she refrained, knowing that it would all be worth it when he got home.
“Use your words, baby. You didn’t break the rules, did you?”
“No,” she breathed, her hips twitching -- trying to get his hand to where she wanted it.
“That’s my good girl. It wasn’t easy for me either, you know.” She did know. She knew all about it.
His fingers continued their journey at the top of the apex of her thighs, playing against her skin, building the anticipation of his touch against her already throbbing clit. He bypassed the bundle of nerves and ran his index and middle fingers through her slick folds. He passed through them once, twice, three times before extracting them, trailing her moisture on his tongue.
Betty watched as his eyes lost the last shred of blue, as he pulled his fingers from his mouth and returned them to her aching center. As soon as she felt the pads of his fingers against her clit, her hips were off the mattress, silently begging for more. She put her hands in his hair, trying as she might to pull him to her for a kiss, wanting to taste herself on his tongue as it explored her mouth.
His mouth was at her jaw, behind her ear, at her pulse point all at once, tasting her sweet skin that he missed, that he dreamed of while he was away. His mouth found her pebbled peak and he swirled his tongue around it in time with his fingers on her clit.
A string of moaned curses left her lips. It was too much and not enough all at once.
He replaced his fingers with his thumb as they trailed to her entrance, dripping with want and desire, all for him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slipped one finger inside her, but when he pulled it out, he added another, plunging them back inside.
“Fuck,” Jughead groaned, feeling her around his hand was nearly enough to strip his pants the rest of the way off and dive into her. He pressed up, ever so gently hitting that spot he knew would send her reeling, hurtling her closer to the edge of her sanity. He kissed down her torso and when he got to his destination, he puffed a gust of air from his lips against her.
Betty’s back arched, hips rolling in time with his fingers when she felt his mouth latch to her clit. His tongue swirled around the nerve, sending air into her lungs with a sharp gasp. She moaned on her exhale reveling in the feel of her husband between her legs.
She loved when he took his time, really, she did, but she needed to feel him inside of her, all of him and she was growing impatient. She grabbed at his hair still simultaneously holding him in place and pulling him up to her.
“Please. Please, baby,” she begged, voice breathy and already lost to him.
Her grip on him spurred his actions as he picked up the pace, feeling her walls flutter around his fingers. Her legs were shaking next to his ears, he could see from the corner of his eyes. Her breathing picked up, catching in her throat around scattered Jesus Christ, Holy shit, and a mantra of Juggie .
She came with his name on her lips, eyes shut tight and heart pounding in her ears. She almost didn’t hear Jughead’s jeans hit the floor, but she did feel the bed dip next to her, his hands sliding up her body to her neck again to pull her in for a bruising kiss.
He pulled her on top of him, her knees straddling his waist.
Her sensitive apex hovering above his rock hard arousal. She admired his body, the way the freckles were scattered across his chest, how his happy trail really was just as the name sounded. Her fingers played in the small patch of hair, teasing closely to his tip.
She gripped him in her hand, slowly stroking him as she leaned down to kiss him again. She’d never get enough. Her hand slowed, teasing the tip of his cock with her thumb as she swirled the pre-cum around. His throaty groan made her smirk, pleased with herself that even after all these years of being together the result was always like this.
Popping her thumb in her mouth, she savored his sweetness as she rolled her hips over him. Jughead threw his head back, his eyes half closed as she saw him still watching her. She pressed her chest against his, placing a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth before lifting her hips completely off of his, grabbing him at his base and lining him up to her entrance.
Betty teased her way down, basking in the feeling of him finally inside of her. She could tell he’d been torturing himself, as well as her, until that point. When she was settled, she stayed completely still, waiting just a beat longer than she normally would.
He pulsed his hips up into her, his impatience winning out over his contentment of finally being home. He watched as her mouth dropped open, trying to catch her breath. They found a steady rhythm, a constant push and pull building them each higher and higher.
Jughead sat up abruptly, their hips still joined, and pushed her onto her back with her knees still around his waist, ankles now crossed behind him, pulling him deeper into her with every thrust. He hovered over her, elbows bracketing her ears as he kissed her.
“Goddammit, I’ve missed you,” he moaned at the shell of her ear. He listened as she let more obscenities fall from her lips, whispered moans spoken only for him, directly into his heart.
He pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger, her chest meeting his hand halfway. He could see her starting to splinter again.
His fingers found her pulsating clit and rubbed furiously against it as his thrusts picked up the pace again, harder, faster. He knew she was there.
“Come on, baby. I wanna feel you come around me.”
As if she were waiting for permission, his words were all she needed. It started in her toes and buzzed through to the tips of her ears. She cried out his name again back bowing upwards as her orgasm hit., in
Jughead would never be tired of hearing it fall from her lips in that way. With a few more spastic thrusts, he joined her, this time her name falling from his lips. He kissed her forehead once, twice.
When they were able to speak in a tone higher than a whisper, he rolled himself off of his wife, sweat helping him slide to her side.
“I missed you, too, Juggie,” Betty giggled, snuggling into his side as his arm curled around her. “How was your trip?” His fingers began to draw slow patterns on the curve of her hip, a smile curling her lips up as she burrowed into him.
The house they were able to save for didn’t feel quite like home without the other there. After all, the house was just four walls, but home -- home was someone else.
--fin