#bughead drabble

Maybe it wasn’t the threats that had scared her so much. Looking at those faces, covered by black hockey masks to obscure most of their features, it just reminded Betty of the Black Hood, the serial killer who had called and traumatised her for weeks on end. And even though the sociopath was dead, it still scared her. If her phone rang unexpectedly sometimes it made her flinch, and her heart beat against her chest painfully as she answered, even though she knew it couldn’t possibly be the Black Hood. She had to change her ringtone after a week when she kept getting scared by the ironically cheery tune. Or if it wasn’t that scaring her, then the thought of what those men could have done to them brought her mind back to the night that she’d helped her mother dispose of the body in her house, the night that still left her feeling nauseous when she thought about it.

The car hit a pothole in the road, and the sudden jolt that roughly brought Betty out of her thoughts caused her to flinch, her hand gripping Jughead’s wrist with immediate fear. Her eyes had blurred over with unshed tears so she couldn’t see as her boyfriend moved beside her, but she felt the hand as it left her leg, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders instead.

“Betty,” His voice was low against her temple, as he probably didn’t want to disturb Veronica and Archie with the hushed conversation. “Take a deep breath.”

It was only then that she realised how much she had been trembling, and her lips parted to suck in a deep breath as her hand gripped onto his jumper, making a fist in that material instead. Her seatbelt was making it harder to completely tuck herself into him, so she pulled the top of it to slacken the belt which allowed her to shuffle closer to him as the tears finally started falling.

“We’ll be back soon,” He was whispering into her hair as he pressed a kiss to her head, and his free hand moved to replace the other on her thigh, gently dragging his fingers against the skin once more. “We can go and stay at mine or at yours, wherever you want. I won’t leave you alone.”

The thought of staying under the same roof as Chic after that night made her stomach lurch, so she had started shaking her head as soon as he mentioned her house. “I can’t go back to mine.” She whispered tearfully, and she felt him nod against her head.

“You don’t have to, you can stay at mine.” Jughead held her a little tighter, and Betty sniffled as she pushed herself closer into his embrace.

She didn’t say anything else for a while. His fingers continued to gently trace along her thigh, and she allowed herself to focus on that touch again, the warmth of his hand against her trembling leg. Her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on his touch, so that she didn’t think about the cabin, or the Black Hood, or the body. The sound of the Black Hood’s voice in her ear over the phone. The blood that stained her hands and clothes as she knelt on her kitchen floor. The smell of the bleach as she scrubbed the-

“Hey guys,” It was Veronica’s voice that broke her train of thought, and Betty blinked through her tears to look up at her equally tired best friend. “We’re here.”

Betty had to force her fingers to unwrap from around Jughead’s jumper so they could get out of the car. His hand remained a gentle touch against her arm as she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, and once he had followed her outside his palm moved to her lower back to keep her steady. She was still trembling somewhat, and when she took a glance over towards Veronica and Archie they were stood just about the same way on the other side of the car to them.

The bright neon lights from the Pop’s sign blurred her vision even further, and Betty had to blink another few times before she could see clearly. The pink light reflected off of the recently-polished car in front of them, like how the candlelight in the cabin had reflected off of the axe-

Jughead pulled her into her arms, and it was only then that Betty truly realised how much harder it was getting to suck in a breath through her suddenly thick throat. He was mumbling something that she couldn’t quite hear as his hand cupped the back of her head, and she gripped onto the soft material of his jumper again as she forced a breath in. She had been feeling even more anxious recently, with the incident with Archie and the Black Hood, and then the body at her house. Maybe this was finally the long-awaited tipping point that she had been expecting for months, ever since the Black Hood had started calling her.

“Betty?” Veronica’s hand was on her shoulder - it was smaller and more delicate than Jughead’s hands on the back of her head and her waist. “We’re home now, it’s okay.”

She nodded into Jughead’s shoulder, and took in another breath as she gripped onto him tighter. “I know,” The words were a little choked out, but were still honest. “I just… it’s a lot.”

Betty didn’t need to say more because she knew that they’d understand, and she was given evidence of that when Jughead held her more lovingly against himself, his touch less worried than before. Veronica gently rubbed her shoulder before the touch was lifted, and Betty heard her mention that she and Archie would get them a table inside to give them a moment alone. The thought of guilt passed through her thoughts, that they had all been through the same thing so she shouldn’t need special treatment, but in that moment Betty was too tired to need anything other than her boyfriend’s support.

“I’m okay,” Still, she didn’t want him to worry about her on top of everything else, so the words were mumbled into his jumper as she held onto his waist. “Really.”

35: “Do you trust me?”

It’s such a perfect day in Riverdale.

It’s a Sunday and Betty isn’t working so she’s found herself at the one spot that brings her some semblance of peace.

It’s a spot she’s deemed, hers.

It’s a little cliff that overlooks a part of Sweetwater River, and she likes to sit there on days like this.

On days where she only wants to hear the quiet rustle of trees and the soft flow of water, and not her mother’s shrieking scream and her father’s bellowing yell. It’s her little slice of heaven and nothing ever disturbs it.

She wouldn’t say the cliff is unsafe, just a little intimidating, and there’s a deep amount of water that would cushion her if she ever fell, but she doesn’t necessarily have the urge to ever jump in from this high. It’s a decent twenty-five to thirty-foot drop. If she wanted to jump in, she’d walk down the hill and jump from a smaller ledge.

So when a man runs up to her, frantic and panicky, she has no idea what to do. She stands from the ledge in fear, her hand to her chest.

“Do you trust me?” The man says, his dark hair pointing up in all directions, an indication that he’s been running for a while.

Betty looks around, “No! What the fuck! I just met you?! Why would I—“

The man cuts her off, “Well you better jump or else we’re dead.”

Betty narrows her eyes in confusion, “Why, why would I ever…do that?”

The man looks between her and the space behind her, “Well, if you want to get trampled and slash or killed by a bunch of wild Ghoulies, your best option is to jump.”

She looks at this crazed man in disbelief and a little bit of amusement and barks out a laugh, “What the fuck are Ghoulies?”

She can hear, quite literally, a herd of …something… (Ghoulies????) come her way and he grabs her hand, gently, hesitantly. A stark contrast to his panicky nature.

“Listen, I don’t want a random person, you, to get caught in a gang war, so it’s either we jump now, and get fuck out of here, or we’ll be pushed or worse. I’m sorry but…I’d rather you get the fuck out of here.”

“You don’t even know who I am? Why wouldn’t you just jump on your own?”

He’s getting frustrated and anxious now, “I-I know, I know okay—“ he looks over her shoulder, “I’ll—I’ll buy you, something, dinner or like a milkshake or something. I’ll give you straight-up cash, I don’t care, just please…” He lays his hand out.

Betty looks down at the water beneath her and his outstretched hand, and sighs. This is not how she thought her day would go.

But she looks at this panicked man, his tousled raven curls, sparkling blue eyes and tall, thin frame, and says, fuck it.

She takes her phone and chucks it into the nearby bush, grabs his hand hastily and they jump.

…

49: You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out

!Mature! (mentions of smutty stuff, and mention of r@pe)

What is she doing here?

Listen, there aren’t many things in this world that Jughead hates more than Betty Cooper. Her uptight attitude, that tight blonde ponytail, her upper-middle-class poise. The entitlement. Jesus, there’s nothing Jughead wouldn’t give to rip out that ponytail and see if her whole personality falls apart.

And to find her here, in the basement of the Ghoulie clubhouse, trying to argue her way out of a chair, that she’s been tied to.

She’s tied to a chair.

Yes, he hates her. But he hates the Ghoulies more.

He’d come to the Ghoulie Clubhouse to have a civil conversation with Malachai. The Ghoulie leader had known Jughead was coming, but he wasn’t upstairs at the table like they’d discussed, so Jughead was led downstairs to where Malachai was supposedly dealing with business.

Arguing with Betty Cooper, who is, ONCE AGAIN, tied to a chair.

After he knocks out Malachai and his minion waiting at the door, he hastily unties Betty, grabs her wrist, and leads her out the back door, all with her fighting against his grip.

When they make it to his motorcycle, he signals her to get on and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in refusal.

“Get. On.” Jughead says, through his teeth, in anger and frustration.

Betty smiles, “No.”

Jughead grabs his helmet, and puts it onto her head, grabbing her waist and putting her on his motorcycle. He gets in behind her and wraps his arms around her to reach the handlebars.

He can tell Betty is fuming in front of him, but she’s not making any effort to get off, so he starts his motorbike and they’re off.

He drives them to his trailer and the minute he stops, Betty jumps off, hastily takes off his helmet and throws it on the ground.

“What the fuck was that?”

Jughead chuckles humorously as he lazily gets off the motorcycle, puts down the brake and leans against it, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck was that? How did you, Princess Elizabeth Cooper, find herself tied to a chair, in the basement of a drug den? The Ghoulie Clubhouse? How, the fuck, does prim and proper Betty Cooper find herself there, of all places?”

Betty picks a piece of fluff off her black, low-cut sweater, something he’s never seen her wear before in his life. “Oh that, Malachai and I were just having a little fun.”

Jughead stands up and walks towards her slowly, “A little fun, my ass. Tell me what you were doing there, right now.”

Betty huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, accentuating her breasts, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Jughead stops in front of her and looks down at her, “Try me. Tell me, right now, what you were doing there.”

Betty glares at him, “I can take care of myself you know. I didn’t need you to knock Malachai out and treat me like a princess locked in an ivory tower. I was handling it.”

Jughead licks his lips and glares at her harder, “That’s funny. It didn’t look like it. How do you ‘handle it’ with you tied to a chair?”

“Fuck you, Jughead. You don’t think I can handle myself, what, because I’m a woman? I needed a big, strong man to come and save me? The big, scary Serpent King, to come and rescue me? I didn’t need to be saved.”

Jughead puts his hand on her chin, running his thumb down her bottom lip roughly. Her eyes darken but she’s still glaring at him. As is he, “I’m sorry honey, but it looks like you did. Now, don’t make me ask again. What the fuck were you doing there?”

She tries to get out of his hold, but his hand remains roughly placed at her chin, “I was following a lead.”

Jughead barks out a humorous laugh once more, honestly, this whole thing is amusing.

“You were ‘following a lead.’” He says, mockingly.

Betty glares at him even harder and pushes her hands against his chest.

Jughead continues, “And did The Princess find what she came for?”

“No,” Betty says through her teeth.

Jughead and Betty have known each other since the ripe young age of six. Jughead would chase after her and pull her hair in the playground. She’d kick his ass playing any sports and stick her tongue out at him every time she’d win.

She’d get under his skin in freshman and sophomore year when they’d compete against each other in the high school spelling bee, always coming first to his second. They’d compete against each other in the Mathletes team and in debating and they’d always be against each other.

And when Betty won valedictorian and he was salutatorian, once again did they find each other at odds.

In all of his life, Jughead has never wanted to fuck her so hard, then he does right now. He’s never wanted to push her against the wall and fuck her so hard she cums over and over again. He’s never wanted to suck her clit so hard and lick that pretty pussy until she screams for everyone to hear. He’s never, so badly, wanted to pull at that ponytail while she takes his whole cock into her mouth, choking her with his cum. He’s never wanted to teach her a lesson so bad for scaring the absolute shit out of him by being down there.

Except, that he does, which he’d known he has since he began feeling any type of lust for anyone. There she was, so uptight and perfect, and he’d always wanted to rough her up.

And right now, he’d give anything to push her against his trailer, wrap those creamy long legs around his waist and fuck her raw.

Jughead pushes away his lustful thoughts. “And what exactly did you come for, Betty? Why were you there really?”

Betty sighs now, tired of this whole thing and Jughead releases his hand from her chin.

“I was there because I wanted to snoop. I wanted concrete evidence that the Ghoulies are making and distributing Jingle Jangle across Riverdale, so I could finally do something about it. Put Malachai away, shut down the operation. But I was too hasty about it. I should’ve brought back up, I should’ve been more prepared. It’s just, another person died, and I got angry. I shouldn’t have done it, it was stupid. But I didn’t need you to rescue me.”

Jughead sighs, “Betty, you should’ve come to me. You know I know stuff about this, but you’re so stubborn that you would never come to me about this stuff.”

Betty walks over to sit on the stairs that lead up to his front door, “Jughead, I’m tired. I’m over it. My head hurts. I don’t need you calling me names because I was too stupid to see through my hatred for you. I get it, okay.”

It makes him uncomfortable to see her defeated. He may have spent his whole life hating her, but he’s never seen her as weak. He walks up to her and crouches down, so they’re at eye level,

“If you’d come to me, you’d know I was dealing with this. You may think I’m your—what did you say— ‘big, scary Serpent King’ but I’m not standing around all day doing nothing. You know that I’m not dumb. I’m dealing with this shit daily, I’m trying to make Riverdale better and clean of their stupid drugs. And if you’d come to me, you’d know why I was there today, which was to give him an ultimatum. I dug up some dirt, found some shit and can put him away for a long, long time. I’m so close, Betty. Now, I don’t know what’s going to happen. He might flee before I can hand in the evidence, or not even sit down with me. I don’t know what to do.

But today, you were stupid. Because these men aren’t respectful. You come into my bar? You snoop around my shit, yeah we’d get angry, but I’m telling you, none of my men, would ever do anything to disrespect you. The Ghoulies, on the other hand, don’t care when a pretty girl comes in, looking like you do. They don’t respect women, they don’t see them like we do. And we may be a gang as well, but first, we’re a family. They don’t give a shit about that. They’re the lowest of low. So excuse me, for getting you out, for protecting you. Because the last thing I want to hear is that Betty Cooper, valedictorian of her year, journalist, friend, sister, a woman I’ve known since before I could think any cohesive thought, was raped and killed by a bunch of scum of the earth.”

Betty’s face crumbles and a sob releases from her lips. A tear runs down her face and she puts her head in her hands, in embarrassment, in anger, in fear, he doesn’t know. But he feels his heart crack at the sound.

He stands and sits on the stair next to her, shuffling her down so she leans into him as she sobs. He wraps his arms around her and places his chin on her head.

He whispers out into the night, “I’m sorry, I know that’s intense. And I know we’ve spent our whole lives hating each other. But I respect you, okay? Despite all that. You’re intelligent and beautiful, and seeing you down there scared the shit out of me. And I admire your bravery and I know you’re strong and can take care of yourself. But I don’t know what they were going to do. I assumed they had to have knocked you out already to get you tied up like that and I just panicked. I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry for forcing you to get on my motorcycle and come here but I was scared. And I’ll admit that I was scared.”

He feels her take a large inhale of breath against his chest, and then, he feels her arms come and wrap around his waist. He feels her bury her head into his stomach.

Jughead’s heart skips a beat and he’s never felt this scared in his life.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her say softly, and he looks down at her to see her looking up at him, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, just come to me next time, please. Please, Betty, I’m begging you, we can help each other. Just don’t do that again.”