Smut
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Betty Cooper is an angel.
An angel who right now is trying to kill him with her big doe eyes and heavenly toned legs. Tracing her shadowed figure pressed against the doorframe he can feel his heart practically beating out of his chest.
As she steps into the light of the kitchen, he chokes back a moan discovering her soft curves dressed in only his red cape.
He has been in countless deadly battles and yet one coy smile from his girl and his whole body shakes, willing to drop to his knees in an instant and beg at her feet to touch her.
Only moments earlier he had begun cooking dinner, smiling to himself as he focused on her frantic typing in their office, always in awe of how hard she works day in and day out. He loves to cook for her, bathe her, touch her. Being in love with Betty Cooper makes him feel whole and at peace.
She wanders out sleepily, still dressed in her rumpled work clothes. He can’t help the smile that graces his face as she crowds his back wrapping her arms around his torso, squeezing lightly.
“Hey baby,” he murmurs, still watching the steak sizzling in the pan. “Why don’t you go get changed and relax? Dinner is almost done.” He continues, turning to cup her face gently, placing a sweet peck on her nose, smirking as she scrunches it adorably in retaliation.
“I can help.”
Shaking his head at her suggestion, he turns the gas top on low heat before wrapping an arm around her waist and whisking her back into their bedroom before she even has a chance to blink.
“Relax Betts.” He demands, nipping at her earlobe before disappearing into the kitchen.
Turning swiftly back to the plate in his hand, he listens to the pitter patter of her feet against the kitchen floor as she edges closer, the smell of her arousal filling his nose.
“What did I just say?” He questions, breathing out harshly as she closes the distance between them. Cataloguing her movements, he hears her jump up onto the counter behind him, her sweet sigh echoing the kitchen as her warm skin meets the cool marble.
“You usually let the meat rest so I thought you could have dessert before dinner.” She simpers, spreading her legs to show her molten centre bare for him to drink in, no lace encasing her swollen folds, only his red cape draped across her supple thighs.
His hand clenches around the plate as he feels himself harden at the sight of her.
Moving to set the plate down before he crushes it in his grasp, shaking his head at her feigning innocence even as she runs her fingers along her splayed thighs.
Stepping in between her legs, he takes the opportunity to feel her heat against his throbbing cock, straining against his trousers. He slides his hands up her thighs reaching for his cape, reveling in her soft sigh when their skin touches; rough meeting smooth.
Playing with the familiar red fabric between his fingers he tugs at it gently, “You gonna save me, babe?” He teases, laughing in delight at the blush that surfaces, absentmindedly reaching up to brush the back of his hand against her soft cheek.
“I thought you deserved the night off Juggie.” She replies looking up at him earnestly. Jughead doesn’t miss the flash of sadness in her bewitching green eyes. Guilt settles in his stomach at the number of nights he’s been absent this week, leaving his love in the middle of the night, unable to ignore the chaos miles away torturing his ears.
He knows she stays up for him, waiting to see if he’s alright, regardless of how many times he tells her he’s practically bullet-proof . She’s stubborn. It’s one of the things he loves about her. But now with darkness blooming underneath his favourite green orbs, it’s her who truly deserves a night off.
