Author's notes: Hi. Yes. I've done one other fic like this for another verse and it was well received. I'm nervous about doing it for bughead but have been having this idea all day long and well, what the fuck. I'm doing it. Dom/Sub undertones. If that's not your thing, please feel free to skip this one. I would love feedback but, I'll be honest, when it comes to writing this type of fanfic, my writer ego is fragile so please, be gentle with me. Enjoy? Yeah, uh, enjoy. XXX

Betty Cooper threw her jacket down onto the seat in the booth in the corner of the gang's favorite club. It had been a day. A day from hell. First, it was Alice Cooper calling her at the ass-crack of dawn, asking, ne, demanding to know why she hadn't picked up her Adderall prescription. Then it was one irate professor after another, harping into her about performing her absolute best. Then the absolutely repulsive encounter with that concussed Dom who reminded her too much of Malachi and that God-awful night she had to endure with him. No, with one thing or another, Betty Cooper was quite happy for a respite.

Archie Andrews, her best friend since childhood and fellow sub, pushed a dirty martini towards her.

"Here, Betty. Looks like you need this," he said, and she all but snatched the drink, taking a sip.

"God," she groaned. "What does a girl have to do to get a somewhat decent Dom with half a fucking brain around here?"

Archie frowned in sympathy. "No offers then?"

"Oh, there have been plenty of offers, Archie," she hissed. "Just all by Neanderthals who think solely with their dicks and don't know how to properly treat a sub."

"Maybe that's your problem, Betty," Kevin, who was sitting on Moose's lap, piped up. "Maybe you have too high of standards."

Betty stared at him in blatant disbelief. "Since when does wanting to be treated well equate to high standards, Kevin?"

Kevin shrugged his shoulders, opening his mouth to reply, but Moose tapped him on the shoulder, leveling him with a look. "Leave it alone."

Kevin fell silent, nuzzling his face into his Dom's neck, humming happily. Betty felt a twinge of sadness at that. She didn't get to do that with anyone. Had never really been able to do that with anyone. All of the Dom's she had been with had only used her for sex. They hadn't believed in aftercare or anything remotely like they should. Then, there was Malachi and what her mind had started referring to as "the event". She closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories and gulped down the rest of her drink.

"I'm going to pee. There better be another martini waiting for me when I get back," she said.

XXX

Four martinis and two shots later, and Betty didn't have a care in the world as she swung her hips from side-to-side on the dance floor. She could practically feel the hunger oozing from all the Dominates in the room, but she hadn't picked who she wanted to submit to for the night. Not yet. She was too busy having fun with her body and the dance floor to really think about it. As she threw her hands up in the air, twirling, a laugh broke free as she threw her head back, memories of the horrid day chased away by the overwhelmingly comfortable amount of alcohol dancing in her veins. It was as she swayed her body around to the other side that she spotted him for the first time.

Tall. Taller than her. Oceanic eyes staring at her from underneath curious and hooded lids. A curl bouncing cutely to the side of his forehead. His leather jacket was a predominate feature on him and it screamed sex. His confidence screamed Dom. And Betty's pussy? Well, that screamed something altogether foreign to her drunk-addled brain. The moment he spotted her looking at him, his lips twitched into a smirk and he pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, parting the crowd in a hypnotizing fashion as he made his way to her. She couldn't run if she wanted to.

When he reached her, he painstakingly ran his eyes up her body, taking in the form-fitting dress hugging her small waist in all the right places. She smirked.

"Like what you see?" Betty asked in a sultry tone that she knew most men buckled at. He was different, though. Somehow she already knew that.

"I do. I would also like it if it wasn't on display for everyone to see. Half the men in this club have a hard on for you and you're not even doing anything but dancing," he replied, voice low and throaty.

She gulped as she shivered at his low timbre. "What are you going to do about that?"

"I have a multitude of things I would like to do. I need your consent, though," he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. She breathed out an exhale.

"You're a Dom who actually asks for consent? That's new," she murmured, eyes on his.

He bared his teeth and she shivered in delight, thinking about where he could happen to place those teeth against her, if she played her cards right.

"You've been with Dom's who haven't asked for consent?" He growled. She looked down suddenly, biting her lip. A soft touch of his hand to her cheek had her face tilted back to where it was staring into his eyes. "Answer me."

It wasn't a direct command, but it was pretty damn close enough that it sent an electric jolt to her core. Closing her legs at his voice, she nodded.

"Yes…?" Betty trailed off.

"Jughead," he said, tone low.

She smiled. "Betty."

Jughead curled his fingers around her biceps, folding them inwards protectively. "I'll need consent for anything to happen tonight, love."

The way his breath washed over her face left her more intoxicated than the alcohol and she found herself nodding absent-mindedly.

"A nod won't suffice, baby. I need to hear the words fall from those beautiful lips of yours', before anything else can. Or, can't," he smirked wickedly, and suddenly an image of her gagged and on his bed flashed into her mind and she nearly buckled.

"You have my consent, Jughead," she whispered.

He held her up. "Excellent. Let's get out of here."

XXX

She had grabbed her jacket, letting Archie know she was leaving for the night, before tucking herself back into Jughead's side. For his part, he slung an arm around her protectively and the normal catcalls she got from the less than groomed Dom's didn't bother her. Not tonight. Not with Jughead's presence. As they made their way to his place, she found herself wanting to trace his skin, to feel the rough stubble on his jaw, but she kept her hands firmly to her side. He hadn't given her permission to touch him.

Once they were in his apartment, he shed off his jacket, before taking hers', and hung them both up on a coatrack. She stood in the center of the room, slightly nervous and unsure as to why. He chuckled at her stance.

"I'm not going to hurt you, baby," he promised, tracing his hand along her jaw. She nodded.

"I know," she said, and she did. He looked her up and down for a moment.

"Safe word?" Jughead asked softly.

"Blue," she said softly, staring into the depts of his eyes. He chuckled.

"Blue it is. I want you to use it at any point tonight, alright, baby? Think you can do that for me?" Jughead asked quietly, and Betty nodded again. He pulled his tie off, before tugging his shirt out of his pants. "The bedroom is down the hall, to the left. Go get on the bed, wrists above your head."

She felt her heart beating pleasantly as she did as she was bid. Once she was on the bed, wrists above her head and holding onto the headboard for good measure, she watched as Jughead walked into the room. He slowly slid up the bed.

"Green for go, yellow for pause, red-blue for stop," he amended himself with a chuckle, looking at her. She nodded, swallowing.

"Yes, sir," she whispered, slipping into her role already.

"Such a good fucking girl," he cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of her throat. A soft whine escaped her lips at the lack of contact to them. He chuckled.

"Don't do that, love," he warned, and she bit her lip, wondering what would happen if she did.

"Or, what?" Betty asked, smirk toying at her lips.

"You really want to find out?" Jughead trailed a hand against her stomach, and she could feel the rise and fall of her ribs as she inhaled and exhaled. She nodded, regardless.

"Please," she breathed.

He slapped her leg and she moaned.

"Please what?" Jughead growled.

"Sir," she batted her eyelashes at him, and he chuckled before standing up.

In one swift movement, her dress was off her body, leaving her clad in her lacy underwear set.

"Tut, baby. Wearing these at a club where men can see you? Watch you as if you're prey? Not a good idea," he whispered. Before she could respond, he was gathering her wrists in one hand, and opening his bedside cabinet with another. Hooking his finger around a pair of handcuffs, Jughead locked her wrists to the headboard, and she felt her center grow impossibly wet. This was always some of her favorite parts about the sex. He studied her. "Color?"

"Green," she breathed.

"Good girl," he praised, and her toes curled.

He then slipped a blindfold over her eyes. "Still green, love?"

"Yes, Jughead," she murmured, hearting beating in anticipation.

Then came the gag. "And, now?"

She nodded her head.

Next, she felt his lips trailing kisses into her sensitive flesh, mapping her stomach the way one would map the constellations in the night sky. She moaned, bucking her hips upwards as she tried to encourage him to rest his beautiful lips on her clit. Instead, a slap hit, and she moaned again at the stinging sensation.

"Behave," he warned, and she whined but fell still. "That's my girl." Again, the toes curled of their own volition and she felt warm.

She could hear him pulling down his pants, then the sound of him pumping his cock. "Are you on the pill?"

A vigorous nod.

"Excellent."

In one swift movement, he was inside of her, and her fingers clenched around the cuffs as she adjusted quickly to his size. He waited a few beats, letting her grow comfortable and she was amazed at the fact that a Dom like him existed. "Good?" She nodded. Then, they were in-sync as his dick rammed in and out of her pussy. Her folds were dripping, and her head was spinning. Betty was no stranger to sex, not having figured out she was a sub at a young age, but my God. This was other-worldly. His fingers caressed her skin with the gentlest of touches, painting his affection for her. She didn't want this to be a dream. And, god, if it was, she didn't want to wake up anytime soon.

"I'm going to take your hands down from the board but leave you cuffed. I want you to balance on your knees, hands using the bed to hold you up. Understood?" Jughead asked firmly and she shook like a leaf from his tone. She took too long to answer because the next thing she felt was a stinging sensation against her clit and she moaned again. "Understand?" Jughead growled and she quickly nodded. "That's better." Then, he unhooked her wrists from the headboard and spun her around, balancing her on her knees as he guided her hands to the bedframe. Entering her from this angle meant he was hitting her g-spot repeatedly and she gasped into the cloth in her mouth.

"Fuck," she mumbled, and he chuckled, before bringing his fingers around to her pussy and pumping them in and out. "Oh god."

"Come. Only when I say," he said, and her knees nearly shook from the effort it took to listen to his command. But, she would do it. She needed to do it.

He pumped a few more times, pressing kisses against the side of her neck.

"Come," he whispered, and she shot out into his hand as he spilled his seed inside of her. He held her up as they both rode out their orgasms. Eventually, he caught his breath and gently undid the handcuffs, pulled out her gag, and slipped off the blindfold. She collapsed onto the bed, spent, and he pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"Rest for a bit, love. I'll be back," he said softly.

That was new. Most Dom's she had been with didn't want her to stay around after sex. She wasn't complaining, however. She laid in the bed, tried to still her frenzied heart and eventually heard soft footsteps coming back into the room.

"Hey, think you can sit up for me?" Jughead asked, and she opened her eyes, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of water. She accepted it gratefully and took sips.

"To rehydrate you," he murmured at her questioning look and she smiled slightly, touched. "I'm going to draw us a bath."

She had to know, if only for self-deprecating reasons.

"Why are you being so nice?" Betty asked curiously. "Most Dom's I've been with don't believe in aftercare."

"They're fucking idiots who don't deserve you," he said calmly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Any Dom knows to take care of their partner, no matter what."

"Partner?" Betty whispered.

A small smile graced his lips. "Let me take you on a date tomorrow, Betty. Explore this some more."

She nodded her head.

"I'd like that," she whispered shyly.

Pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, he hummed. "Me too. Now, that bath."

He got up to go draw them one and Betty was left reveling in the fact that her day may have been shit but her night was just what she needed.