The whole summer, the family spent either in Riverdale or in their home in New York, even though many days they were on the beach, a bit outside of the central of the city, just enjoying the rare good weather and sun. In September, Betty went back to her teaching position in schools, some days in the private Spanish school, others in a public elementary school, showing young kids some Spanish or French. Jughead worked from home, and the two were happy to get so much quality time together, even though most of that was spent by playing or looking after their daughter.
Now it was the second of October, Jughead's birthday, and the two were cuddling in bed, legs interlocked and arms tightly wrapped around one another. Bea was sitting in their bed and playing with her favorite barbies. By now, she was 20 months old, and starting to understand it wasn't normal for people to only have one arm. She was often disturbed and throwing tantrums because of the fact that she couldn't hold two toys at once, but there were also moments like these—where they could be in peace and silence.
The two were stealing kisses and speaking in a quiet tone, not asleep, but not awake either. They kept their eyes on their daughter most of the time but talked about random things that had nothing to do with the three of them. Bubbles—who had grown a lot—was sprawled over the bed as well, probably taking the most room, but happy to be there.
When finally Jughead's stomach growled though, Betty started giggling and he grinned sheepishly, burying his face into her neck, and starting to leave soft kisses there. "Hungry?" Betty asked, running her hands through his thick dark hair.
He hummed and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Made something for my birthday?" he teased, knowing very well he had been banished to their room last night because she was preparing some cupcakes for him.
"Nope, you don't like your birthday."
"Didn't like my birthday when my mom was around. I do like my birthday now that you're here and no one else but the four of us."
Both of them smiled at his words and she kissed his lips. "Want your cake in bed?"
"Well, that wouldn't hurt, but being the responsible parent here..." he sat up on the bed and continued, "I feel like maybe the kitchen would be a better idea."
The blonde rolled her eyes at him and got up as well, earning their daughter's attention. "Baby, do you want some breakfast?"
"I got it," Bea said with a smile and climbed off the bed quickly, running out of the room with her teddy, all the other toys still in their bed. The dog jumped off the bed as well and ran as fast as she could, not staying behind.
Betty and Jughead chuckled at the girl, knowing very well she had picked up that sentence from the two of them fighting. Betty always said that sentence when Jughead was trying to apologize and offered doing things for her, but she thought she could do all of them herself.
When Jughead was about to walk out of the room, the blonde grabbed his hand and earned a frown of confusion. "I think maybe you should put pants on," she suggested, looking at him only in his boxers.
Jughead smirked. "Really? I thought you liked this."
Betty narrowed her eyes at him as he moved closer to her for a moment, the front part of his boxers brushing against her waist. "Get dressed," she demanded, making him laugh loudly.
Betty had his shirt over her underwear—a state which he wouldn't call being fully-dressed either—but he didn't complain about that. So, he pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants (something that she loved), and let them hang low on his hips, revealing the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Betty had already gone to the kitchen, and when he got there, Bea was already sitting in her seat and Betty had given her some Fruity Pebbles to chew on while getting the cupcakes' last frosting ready.
Jughead smirked to himself and cleared his throat quietly, knowing that would earn the blonde's attention, but didn't meet her eyes and instead opened the fridge, grabbing a carton of milk. Betty's eyes traveled over his stomach and rolled away when she saw his pants. That guy was driving her crazy.
He drank the milk straight out of the pack and then placed it on the table before moving to hug Betty from behind. He kissed her cheek softly, arms around her waist, and moved his nose and mouth towards her ear. Betty shivered when he breathed into her ear a few times and got goosebumps all over at his words.
"I'll get you off on this counter right now if you won't stop eye-fucking me," he whispered.
She was in a haze for a moment, and when she opened her mouth, he was already gone and talking with their daughter. Betty gritted her teeth at his teasing mood today, knowing that was exactly what he would've done if nobody were around.
Nobody acknowledged Jughead's birthday, as usual. Nobody said happy birthday, nobody made any presents. They all knew he hated it. FP did call as usual, and Jughead was happy to talk with his dad for a longer time than normal. The only presents he received were the ones Betty got him (he wasn't allowed to complain), and the one Veronica and Archie gave the two of them. It was one of the best ones he had ever gotten. He had one whole night alone with Betty in a hotel room they had paid for.
The moment they closed the door behind themselves, the woman's palms were on his face, cupping it with her hands, and their lips smushed together in a passionate kiss. He pushed off her jacket, then his own, and afterward, picked her up. Betty's legs wrapped around his waist, smiling into the thorough kisses as Jughead walked them forward, towards the bed.
"Thought you wouldn't last so long," Jughead whispered against her neck, planting wet kisses on it. When his knees touched the bed, he smirked and pushed himself further, smiling when the blonde in his arms giggled at the feeling of falling onto the mattress.
"Honestly, I was surprised you didn't pull your pants off in the elevator," Betty teased the same way, her hand brushing against the front of his jeans.
His eyes were smiling to her as he growled, and she leaned up again to kiss his lips. "Stop doing that, you sound like a lion," she whispered when rolling herself on top of him. Jughead sniggered and let her sit up on his torso, knees parted around it.
Betty unbuttoned the flannel he was wearing, and decided to let him keep it on, the rolled-up sleeves doing something to her. Her hands slid down his chest, and back up again, but as they started moving down once more, Jughead growled in frustration and flipped them over again.
"You had your turn," he murmured against her lips, and gently pushed her chin up, head totally against the bed, lowering his lips to her neck again. Betty moaned, not bothering staying quiet, and wrapped her legs around his hips, moving them together.
When Jughead suddenly pulled away, her eyes moved to his face in confusion, only to see the heated look in his eyes. The man moved her hands to her boobs and had to climb off of her to remove the dress from her body. Once it was piled up somewhere on the floor, he lifted her into his arms.
"What are we doing?" Betty breathed.
"It's not the bed."
Her eyebrows furrowed as he carried her through the suite and into the big comfortable bed instead. She had thought the couch was it, just because of the soft mattress and because neither of them knew Veronica had booked a huge luxury room to them again. And earlier, neither noticed.
"Here we go," Jughead mumbled when placing her on the bed, and pushing off his flannel. He undid his belt quickly and took off his shoes, socks, and pants while Betty pushed her shoes off as well. These parts were never shown in the movies not to disturb the romantic scenes, but the two of them giggled into their kisses when the room filled with an unpleasant odor from their feet.
Jughead quickly opened the window in the dark room and jumped onto the bed, right next to her. "Where were we?" he murmured, moving his hands to her bare waist, still a bit tan from the warm beach weathers. His tan lasted a lot longer, and even though Betty couldn't see it in the darkness, she knew it was there.
When their mouths met in sloppy deep kisses, hips moving together through their underwear, his hands unclasped her bra and threw it to the ground. Done that, his lips moved down her jaw, her neck, and to her breasts. It was one of Betty's favorite things he did in bed with her; he always kissed her everywhere.
Because he thought she was beautiful and deserved the world. He felt like kissing her body, appreciating it about her, and telling her all these sweet things would make her feel better about herself as well. And even though she never told him, he knew it did. He knew she loved him for that. And he knew that even when they were fighting, or he was being stupid or annoying, she still loved him. And would never stop.