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when you see stars

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Jughead Jones.

Self proclaimed weirdo, young ‘soft emo’, the Serpent’s son, Wednesday-fucking-Adams…was in a predicament.

You see, Jughead is wondering at this very moment, how he even landed in such a position. One position so strange that pinching the jean covered skin beneath his thigh has become a habit within the last three hours. A moment so obscene, so utterly adulterated, and un-Jughead, that his heart is possibly (it is) trying to rip through his rib cage and onto his lap in a bloody mess. His breathing has long gone from the unthought regulated act, he might stop breathing at any given second. His palms are sweaty and the room feels warm. He swears the heat is getting cranked up and up every second  just by the ghost of his thoughts. Even though he’s aware of the fact that the dingy trailer doesn’t come with AC. The Jones’ aren’t that well off.

Still. Jughead did not expect to end up in the tiny trailer with his childhood friend. Not only that, but in the childhood home that was suddenly starting to become tainted with hormonal teens. Like blood on water, the scandalous act crept through the little room before engulfing the entire space, making it theirs the moment that Betty Cooper step foot within the breaches of a seemingly innocent, troubled home.

Hot and bothered is one description that he thought he’d never, ever, in a million years be: Except, he was.

And, oh boy, he was.

Sucking in a ragged breath, the air itself felt like it wasn’t enough. Innocent lungs, filled with nothing but Riverdale’s finest, crisp air and the occasional fumes from the used cigarettes that littered the coffee table and dirty carpet of the small trailer, Jughead struggles to take another unsteady breath. He’s used to certain smells. Three come to mind: Cheap beer, the greasy stench of Pop’s and the Andrews residence. All three make up the one thing that most bring him comfort and a sense of familiarity: home. But there’s something warm and sweet wafting up his nostrils. A smell so subtle and suddenly very nostalgic. It’s weird, almost as if he were being introduced to the scent. The fragrance makes his fingers twitch, suddenly having the overwhelming feeling to stuff his face into the crook of her neck to get more.


Betty Cooper smells like sweet coconuts. At least, the artificial stuff…

And wow does she smell good. Good enough for him to tug on the ends of her pastel pink sweater, the action which makes her lean in closer. The scent is light, not overpowering, but it’s there. Sweet and comforting.


Did she use everything that was coconut? Shampoo, conditioner and body wash? He was starting to wonder because up until three hours ago, the thought had never crossed his mind.

There’s also one more thing that he smells. Cherry? Strawberry? Something-berry. Something definitely within the berry family, and it’s on her lips. The gloss shinning so brightly that it almost blinds him when she leans her head closer to his own. Orange light beams right through the small window to the left of the living room. The cheap green curtains look like throw up and even then, in all their ugliness, they still fail to do their job. But he doesn’t mind, because Betty Cooper’s lips are ghosting right above his own chapped lips. Her warm breath providing him with more of her essence, one which he greedily sucks into his own lungs: consuming her. It’s an erotic scene, one which his stormy blue eyes can hardly take in because never in a million years did he think he belonged in such a scene . Jughead was starting to feel overwhelmed, dazed by the ever changing events that Betty keeps putting him through at that very moment.

Jughead Jones was a strange being. He’s an alien among humans, except he’s not. He’s simply his own sort of being within the normalcy of Riverdale: The Town with Pep! And those aware of the alien living among them…they made sure to make him aware of his invasion

Okay, that’s a lie. There was one place where he was a ghost that occasionally became human enough to remind people of his existence: Riverdale High School.

See, as a sort of alien,  Jughead was certain, almost positive (which is a total joke now) that he wasn’t a sexual person. Unlike his best friend, Archie who was into digging around his laptop in the middle of the night to catch a free stream of the buxom ‘babes’ getting into some sticky situations, Jughead was not into that at all. If anything, the concept of porn was disgusting. Nude’s, films and the act itself was just something he would have never guessed for himself. God, the world must be laughing at him now.

Hell, the last time his crotch was touched was when he lathered his body in the shower that morning, and it was just that: hygienic purposes. Not the sexual act that had all his available blood rushing to the section between his legs. It was difficult to even think up the last time he touched himself for pleasure. It was that rare. Girls and even men weren’t important to him. Sure, he could appreciate a good looking person, who wouldn’t? But to actively nurse the idea of a person through sexual needs was weird.

It was un-Jughead like. Jughead™ just didn’t do sex, at least, not with others.

Yet, why was he wishing for Betty to do more? The shaking in his bones betrayed his earlier feelings of heat. He’s on fire and he’s sure of it, but he’s also freezing? Betty’s big emerald eyes shine brightly when she tilts her head in the right angle and they aren’t helping her cause. In fact, she’s making it worse with each blink of her doe eyes, her long dark lashes distracting him for a split second.

Wow, Betty was pretty.

She’s so distracting in-fact, that he misses the part where he nods in approval to her request to go farther. Jughead’s eyes are back to being trained on her lips and the raised skin that makes up her signature mole just below her lip. The blonde is made up of nothing but smooth, supple looking skin. Skin that makes him think of a blondie, good enough to eat. Wow, that’s a new one: food reminding him of his childhood friend. So, she was starting to become that important, so much in fact that she’s comparable to a brownies cousin. But Betty is important, of course she is. Archie, Betty and himself are the three amigos. Self-proclaimed Best Friends. Although if he had to correctly define: it was Betty and Archie, Archie and Jughead. Betty and Jughead was rare, but it was never awkward when it was just them as a combo.

This current moment in time was redefining the meaning behind the duo. Their status once again begins to morph the minute the neat golden ponytail dips down and away from his vision to where he locks eyes with the puke green curtains once more.

Spooked, Jughead snaps his head down, his body shaking in anticipation and nervousness. Heart racing, his chest visibly shakes when he sucks in a breath.

“B-Betts, what are yo-“he begins, and as soon as he does he’s cut off by the doe eyes staring back at him. He feels like he’s going to die then. His brain struggling to calculate the situation in which Betty is attempting to unbuckle his belt. It happens so quickly that by the time he can sit up an inch, Betty’s warm fingers are already scalding hot against his erection. With a gentle squeeze, a sharper intake of air is sucked in response.

“Juggie…” Her whisper is barely audible, but he hears it over the loud pounding that is his heart in his ears. Seriously, maybe he was dying. Maybe the lack of oxygen filtering through his lungs was beginning to take effect or something. Was he going into cardiac arrest? Was Betty Cooper really cradling his cock in her sweet, soft hands?

“You’re so hard.”

Was the world ending?

Betty sounds amazed, surprised at how quickly things escalated. The concept of foreplay was one that she’d wanted to test out the moment things got out of hand and boy was it working.

Formulating a response proves to be a challenge as all his mouth can do is chatter. Tongue tied for a good three seconds. Jughead’s body won’t stop shaking, almost as if he’s naked out in the snow with nothing but his bare arms to keep him warm. The cold chill however, comes in the form of Betty. Which begs the question: Why was a seemingly perfect blonde, the perfect honor student and Miss Teen Riverdale 2015-2017 and girl next door sitting next to him, doing such dirty things? Betty isn’t supposed to be this adult-like. No way, if she was to ever do this it would be with Archie, not himself. Everyone and their dog knew that Betty would be the one to end up with Archibald Andrews.

“…going, okay?” her sweet voice comes through again to which he blinks and nods. There was something about Betty, he noticed, if she was using her honey voice, one could easily tune out everything else and just come undone under her spell. It was comforting, and well meaning. A voice warm enough to quell all his worries. Those big green eyes of hers would suck the life out of you and transform one into her puppet. Call him Pinocchio Jones.

No wonder the entirety of Riverdale was under her spell.

The raven-haired boy nodded whilst paying no attention to anything that the blonde had just asked him. He nodded as if in a trance. Betty nods back at him with a nervous little smile before her face disappears again. The old couch creaks when she adjusts her body to lay against his thigh. All Jughead can do is watch in wonder as the scene before him unfolds. There he was, under mind control through the evil powers of Betty Cooper, whom he’s allowed to let his manhood hang out for. She was the only person ever (besides his doctor who delivered him and mother) to be allowed to see him in such a state, let alone with a raging erection. One erection so painfully obvious that every little touch causes his toes curl and the hair on his neck stand in anticipation. What was Betty going to do? Jack him off or something? After all, this moment in time has come out of nowhere, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. Although, he could easily come up with commentary after, one which he was sure she wouldn’t want to listen to given the circumstances surrounding her literal lips above the crown of his manhood. The fact that Betty is face to face with his erect member is enough to smack him back into reality. There she was, blonde angel with bright green eyes, curiously facing off with the taught, silky skin of his cock.

“Betty, I-“and just like before, he’s shaking again. The words begging to go past his lips tumble out in a choked gasp the moment that there’s a kiss in the air.

And on him.

“Shh…” he’s hushed and Betty cradles his cock against the corner of her lips before planting another soft kiss against the throbbing veins that curl around the muscle. Her eyes are intense, zeroed in on her prey with a look so heavily resembling teenage lust. He listens like the obedient boy that he’s suddenly become. Betty is his master and he is her slave, and that becomes fact the moment his arm reaches for his center to try and block her away from him, but is quickly smacked away. “B-Betty, come on. W-what…” his breathing is labored; the pupils of his baby blues are blown wide and his chest is heaving. All that he can do is clamp both hands down against the armrest and headrest of the old couch in a lame attempt to calm himself. The tips of his fingers turning white with tension. There was no going back now. Betty Cooper had seen and is currently in possession of his hardened cock.

Christ almighty.

With a gulp that almost causes him to choke, the boy hisses and pulls his body back into the couch as far as it can go, and away from Betty’s lips. She takes the crown of his member into her glossed lips and away from him, but it’s futile. Thin, small fingers hold him gently in place, squeezing rhythmically around him, like a beat to a song. The act alone so foreign and obscene that Betty questions her actions. The sensation isn’t that off putting, but she has to open her mouth wide enough to keep him in. She blinks a few times, her eyes focused on the plaid pattern around Jughead’s waist.

“Jesus Christ.” Jughead manages to gasp out, his beanie clad head bumping hard against the headrest. Since he couldn’t remember the last time that he pleasured himself, one thing was for sure however, and that was the feeling of his hand compared to a soft, moist, hot mouth was something that could not go hand in hand. Betty’s mouth reigned superior.  A new champion was named then, and holy fuck did it feel weirdly good. Being as sensitive as he already was, the raven-haired boy couldn’t sit still while she kept him in her mouth. She sucked twice while in place before letting go with an audible ‘pop’.  

“I’ve never done this before, Juggie…” she began. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Lies, he thinks. She definitely knows what she’s doing, right?


He wonders as he sneaks a glimpse at in her direction. Betty’s cheeks are in flames bright enough to rival his own. She’s looks sinfully cute, staring at this knee while those seemingly innocent hands grip him in place. God what a scene. Betty with a penis that happened to belong to him, a penis that she had just been experimenting with.

“You don’t have to do anything…”

God, god. GOD.

Everything was awkward, talking was awkward, breathing was awkward, being alive was even more awkward. Betty however, didn’t seem to mind one bit as she shook her head. “I want to.” She manages to breathe out only before stealing glance in his direction as well. She looks away rapidly before focusing back on her task, the one where he can’t remember her asking permission for. Jughead’s heart skips two beats and he gulps, nodding. “Okay.” Comes his whisper.

He screws his eyes back together when he’s enveloped again, his feet jerking back against the bottom of the couch with a painful smack. This time she goes a little bit farther, taking him in right to the center which causes his nostrils to flare in two long exhales.

Betty was really doing this.

Said girl shuffled forward on his thigh, allowing her for a much comfier experience and position. Never once letting go of the member in her mouth and hands. Having something that isn’t food in her mouth makes her ponder her decisions. The fact that she’s on someone’s lap with a specific part of the male anatomy in between her lips.


That somehow encourages Betty and she sucks upward carefully, an action that has Jughead squirming. The little glances that she manages to take fuel her even further, one that also ignites a fire in her tummy. Seeing the power that she suddenly has over the beanie clad boy is indescribable. Jughead staring into the ceiling, his adam’s apple prominent against the shadows cast by the small stream of light that bounces off the walls in various hues of orange, brown and red. All which extenuate his features. Sharp jaw, prominent cheekbones and a pointed nose. The best part, she notices, is the sprinkle of birthmarks scattered throughout his face and exposed neck. Betty notices the way that hip lips twitch, almost as if he were talking to himself, a thought funny enough to make her smile. Jughead, riding a blowjob through a mantra in the form of a pep talk? Twisting her face at the smile, she sucks up before going down again, this time using her tongue to massage the underside of his throbbing member. She starts off slow, but it doesn’t take her long before her blonde head is bobbing up and down at a steady pace against him.

She doesn’t know if she’s doing It right, but judging by his reaction, she must be doing decent enough to rile such a reaction from him. Jughead is swallowing air at rapid speeds and when he looks down at Betty, his heart cannot handle going any faster. It just can’t.  

There she is, his childhood friend, in all her blonde, pastel wearing, good girl glory: sucking his dark soul away. With her hand wrapped at the base of his cock and dark patch of hair, the golden pony tail sways at the actions produced by the bouncing of her mouth against him. The lewd sucking sounds are wet, sounds which he can tell that she’s trying her best to keep silent. Her cheeks have sunken in on themselves, showing just how hard she was sucking while her jade eyes became hidden underneath the dark strands of blonde lashes.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

One, two.


“B-Betts.” Strains Jughead. He’s sure that she’s been at it for at least four minutes, but those minutes have felt like hours and he was sure that he was going to burst at any given moment, especially now. The sight of Betty, with her glossed lips which were now messy and smeared with her saliva and berry lip-gloss.

“You like that, Juggie?”

Good god.

Blue eyes search green ones with rapid speeds, and he nods. “Okay.” She mutters with a sweet smile before her hand is twisting up, lathering itself with her left-over saliva. “I’m glad.” She spares him another look before a pink tongue is flicking at the tip of his manhood, teasing him. A bashful smile plays at her moist lips which look plumper than usual due to the friction caused her actions.

Jughead shudders uncontrollably. Betty takes him in again and this time she takes in more before she gag’s once and let’s go to cough. He lurches forward but Betty is faster and shoves him back, clears her throat and shoots him the deadliest glare he’s ever seen. His response is to sink back further into the corners of the couch and go back to gripping the life out of the old cushion. Like a kicked puppy, Jughead wants to please his master while remaining faithful and mutters a “careful” in her wake. He can feel his face burning up even more and the tips of his ears feel like they might fall off, his body is on fire and Betty knows, because she’s back on him not a second later, this time going for a few more minutes.

“Christ.” The boy hisses, dark brows knit together, teeth bared while his fingers dig into the fabric of the couch. He won’t last any longer, she knows. So instead Betty stops, uses her tongue to awkwardly circle his width inside her mouth, taking her thumb to rub along his length, stimulating the engorged veins that keeps pulsing against her palm.

“I’m gonna come.” He gasps out, his body shooting up and away from Betty at an angle, an action which causes her to follow him. “Then come, Juggie.” Popping him back into her awaiting mouth, Jughead shamefully whimpers while attempting to remove the girl from him but to no avail. She whacks his hand away. His gasps are audible, mixing along with the light wet sucking that fills the air of the small trailer. His body gives way and he slumps against the couch as his hand snaps out to grip the girl’s shoulder, fisting her neatly pressed clothes. “Betty, Betty-“voice hoarse, he attempts to stop her, warning her. “S-stop it.”

Instead, she continues, the blonde ponytail bouncing in place as she quickened her pace. A hum from Betty makes him sigh. The sucking is strong and velvety, smooth and hot, powerful enough to send electricity from the top of his head to ends of his toes. Jughead is close and he knows it, but there’s no way to tell her on time, he tried once and she ignored him.  She feels amazing. Hot mouth, slick and sensual, who knew a blowjob felt this good? He’s panting now, and the curls at his forehead have escaped the grey knitted beanie.

Betty won’t admit it, not now, not ever but her own heart was hammering against her chest. The sound so extreme and loud against her ears that if she didn’t concentrate on Jughead, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Still, she was excited for what was to happen next.

A light sensation fills his body, coursing through his veins. A feeling so powerful and arousing that it makes him lightheaded and causes his toes to curl painfully within his shoes. His stomach twitches uncontrollably while his hips jerk upwards and his eyes begin to roll back. Jughead only has time to register the high that’s beginning to invade his body before his eyes screw shut. A hand reaching to push Betty away, he doesn’t want to taint her like that. But Betty and stubbornness go hand in hand, she doesn’t budge, if possible- she keeps sucking harder and faster, while her hand pumps furiously at the base of his cock. That alone sends him into a daze, the stimulation sending him over the edge.

And then everything goes silent. At least, he thinks it does.

Betty sucks, not knowing when to stop until she hears the sharp intake of air and the grunt that follows. Jughead jerks violently into her mouth and her gag reflexes kick in just as something hot hits the back of her throat.


It doesn’t stop there; the thick fluid shoots out in four consecutive bursts. So, she shuts her eyes closed, feeling lightheaded herself when she registers is happening. Before she knows it, she’s swallowing thickly against the jerking muscle in her mouth. It takes two tries to get the salty gunk to go down, but she does it and let’s go of him as soon as she does, panting for air. It’s almost as if she’d been deprived of it for hours. Instantly the heat that accumulated at the pit of her stomach began to travel downward, in an uncomfortable tingling that made her thighs clench in response. Betty swallows, tasting the last bit of Jughead’s salty remains on her tongue.

Mossy eyes land on the boy before her, his head is thrown back and his mouth is agape while sucking in large quantities of air. His dark curls are loose against his sweaty forehead, the beanie which had fallen behind the couch the moment his threw his head back in ecstasy. Jughead kept his eyes closed, and his adam’s apple bobbed a few times, Betty noted. Curiosity hit her then and she looked down to noticed his member still twitching in the against her loose grip, but it was considerably limp compared to just moments ago. There’s a burn that she feels suddenly which causes her to let go of him to push herself up against the cushions.

“Juggie?” the concern in her whisper is undeniable. Did she go too far? Had she been too harsh? The apples of her cheeks flare up, images of the past ten minutes crashing into her like a million bricks.

I just did that, she thought. I did that.

She looks away momentarily to stare at anything but Jughead and his exposed member. Betty berates herself for pushing him into the act. Allowing her to get the curiosity out of her system brings on a wave of utter shame and embarrassment. She knew Jughead was one to comply with pretty much anything that she asked for, and she knew he would crack the moment she planted her lips on his. Still, she tested his boundaries and realized that he was putty in her hands right after noticing the dazed look in his baby blues. Like a robot, he agreed to everything its creator wanted, even to a blowjob. A blow job for Jughead Jones: Mr. Wierdo, I’m Weird.

A grunt from her right breaks her chain of embarrassing thoughts and with wide eyes, Betty turn to look at her friend. “Jug?”

Jughead blinks twice, counting the cracks on the old ceiling. There’s a ringing in his ears and Betty’s voice is muddled. He can feel the dip to his left when she turns to him and he musters all his strength to flop his head in her direction.

“Jug, I’m so sorry.” She begins before placing her soiled hand on his arm. “If I did anything wrong, let me know. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. God, I’m so stupid!” and just like that, normal Betty comes back. And with ‘normal’ Betty’s return, he realizes that he has to calm her down because she’s ready to start berating herself into nothingness if allowed to. Jughead shakes his head and reaches out to grab a hold of her wrist which stops her in her tracks. The blonde was ready to start a routine that included walk in circles for at least an hour. Looking down at him, honey brows dip in concern and utter anguish. She doesn’t fail to note how his other hand moves to cover himself before quickly stuffing himself back into his dark boxer briefs.

“Betty, it’s fine…don’t worry. That was…” he starts to mutter before clearing his throat, feeling it compress suddenly and finding it hard to talk to her. The room suddenly feels like a furnace and Jughead feels the moistness on his back from the layers of clothes on top of the sweat he managed to work up.

“Bad?” Betty’s shoulders sag and her eyes are as wide as they can get while a frown graces her cursed plump lips.

“What? No!” Jughead shakes his head and clears his throat again and reaches down to button and buckle his pants back up. “Betty, as awkward and humiliating as that…was.” He pauses. “It’s was actually really good.” Looking up then, Betty feels her heart begin to race, suddenly being taken back by the positive comment on her new-found skills within the world of sex.


“Yeah, really.” An awkward smile forms at the corner of his lips and Jughead can’t help but break out into an uncomfortable laugh. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugs. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Cooper. Especially, like… to practice on me…of all people” he shrugs again.  There’s a pregnant pause and Jughead focuses his sights on a dried-up cigar bud rolled under the coffee table.

I just ejaculated into Betty Cooper’s mouth, the thought alone causes him to cover his face with his hands. What else could have gone totally wrong? Have sex with her?

Not that he would mind.

“Oh gods.” He hisses into the silent living room. Betty is standing over him, watching with curious eyes. It all comes crashing down on him. Up until three hours ago, Betty was just his childhood friend and classmate and the ever so lovely-certified diner date at Pop’s. But now they’d gone and crossed over boundaries that were crossed by people, by couples.

I don’t think I’m equipped for this.

“Jug…we can…” even Betty doesn’t know what to say. There’s an ache in between her legs and her words are jumbled up, and she’s one to think before she speaks. Yet, she can barely do that. “Umm.”

The miserable look on his face says a lot when he looks up at her. Betty points in his direction. “We can pretend like this never happened. I just…” her words wander she ponders her next sentence. “…gave you a really good massage. Yeah?” Puss n Boots is staring back at him and his heart leaps into his throat.

“I, uh-“comes his stutter. What in the world was going through her head? Was she regretting the act just he’s coming to terms with it? A frustrated sigh escapes past his lips. “Betty, no. It happened.” His arms shoot out to point out the obvious. “I’m sure that we can try to block that memory but it won’t work.”

He’s right, of course he is and so Betty nods. “Right.”

“Right” he echoes. “Granted, I would have not expected for my day to turn out this way.” Jughead stands and runs his hands through his curls, an act that Betty can’t help but note is super attractive. “Mhmm, sorry about that.” Grumbles the blonde. Standing straight, nimble fingers tug at the ends of her flower patterned top. “But Juggie, thank you for, umm…saying yes.” Betty continues. “I know you agreed to a kiss and that exactly wasn’t just a kiss.”

“No, it’s wasn’t. You took the kissing down south.” He teased. The blonde shoots him a glare filled with mixed signals and flaming cheeks. “Wait, wait.” Again, a pearly pink finger nail is directed at him. “I did ask you!” Betty’s fist makes contact with her palm. “And then you went, ‘Oh, uh, yeah’.” The face that she pulls is funny enough to make him snort. Betty’s eyes are half lidded and unfocused while she imitates the boy before her.

“I did not do that, Betts.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t…” he knows he did and so does Betty because she sends him another one of her glares, this time one of her brows arches in a perfect angle. “Okay, maybe I did. Shoot me.”

Arms crossed, Betty’s flats tap against the dirty carpet and Jughead draws in another shaky inhale. “Betty, I’m serious when I say that I-“ A sigh. “-I actually enjoyed our fornication. Christ, strike me down if you’re real.” He mutters loud enough for Betty to listen in before her giggle fills the open space. “Jesus can’t help you here, Jug.”

“I doubt he’d help out two teens who aren’t married, and already giving blowjobs considering that’s what he preaches.” Jughead shudders at Betty’s words and flops back down on the couch. “Don’t say that word out loud, it’s as bad as the word ‘moist’.” Betty manages to laugh once again while joining him on the couch. “Okay, noted. Don’t use sex terms around Jughead. I’ll make sure that makes the press.” Her shoulder makes contact with his arm in playful banter which Jughead can’t ignore. Looking away from his shoes, he spares her a glance with a smirk. “Not the words, but the actions don’t sound bad.”

It’s Betty’s time to glare, sucking her bottom lip in-between her teeth. Jughead doesn’t miss the bright skin on her cheeks. “Cat got your tongue, Betts?”

“Oh, hush.” She shyly replies. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before Betty feels a tapping against her foot, so she does the same. A simple game of footsies between two teens. Giggling, Betty carefully slumps against the raven haired boy and is surprised to feel his head resting against her own, all while never stopping their foot tapping.

“No regrets?” she asks in the tiniest of whisper. Blue eyes watch their feet, never breaking contact with the neat pastel pink flats against his own cuffed hand me down shoes. It’s a simple question filled with so much more. It’s innocent enough to answer. He knows that he feels something. They can’t go back now, because at every touch that Betty keeps giving him, his body reacts with tingles bursting where she touches him, and wow she still smells good. A simple curious request landed them here now, and he muses that he doesn’t mind. As wild as the experience had been, and as left field as it felt, there was nothing hanging above his head.

“No regrets.” The deep voice comes in two vibrations, both which travels from her head to her chest, causing her heart to speed up. She nods and wiggles her right hand free to find his. Realizing her intentions, he’s quick to comb his fingers through her own, giving her a light squeeze in return. The act it’s oddly comforting and his heart restarts itself again. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He didn’t know what was next for them. Whether she stopped after today or kept going, he was willing to go along with her plans. Whatever they were, one step at a time. Or for their sudden sexual state, one act at a time.

Betty giggles as she stomps down on his foot, which he quickly swipes to the side to knock hers to the side.



“I saw stars.”

Betty pauses to think on his comment. He saw stars? She thinks. Blinking in confusion it takes her a moment before she gapes the very second that realization dawns on her. Jughead was talking about their earlier ‘results’. Stopping their little game, a flustered Betty pushes her weight onto him, who in return rubs at his nose with a bashful smile on his face, eyes crinkling in amusement.

 Now that’s something that I can get used to, he muses, enjoying the way the blonde stomps on his foot, taking her second win for the afternoon.