Author's note: First off, smut warning for those not interested. Secondly, this is the last chapter I will be posting... for now? I have hopes of finishing all of my stories, but one chapter at a time right :P Enjoy


Since they started driving, Betty has been on her best behavior. She's kept her hands to herself, she hasn't spoken a word, and she hasn't even tried to turn on the radio. Not even once, and it's driving Jughead to madness. He hadn't realize just how much he actually likes her conversation, and after fucking like animals on the side of the road, he's desperate to know what she's thinking, what she must think of him. He can't help but wonder if she's afraid of him. Did he force her into it? Was he too aggressive? Had she even wanted it or did he just imagine that?

"I can't take this anymore," he nearly shouts startling Betty and causing her to stare at him in shock.

"Take what," she asks sheepishly.

"This," he gestures between them, "Us, you. Say something, anything. You haven't said a word in like four hours."

"Ok. Uhm… I have to pee," she offers with a shrug. Jughead gives her a scowl that conveys he was looking for more than that.

"Of course you do," he mumbles to himself. "There's a motel about a mile up the road. We can get rooms and clean up if you want." Betty only nods and he feels like he could explode. He needs to know what's going on in that stubborn head of hers.

After parking the truck, They make their way inside the motel. She keeps her distance, walking off ahead of him and he breathes a heavy sigh.

"Two rooms," he demands at the front desk, annoyed that Betty still isn't talking. Two rooms is probably best since she hasn't even spoken to him. Maybe she just needs some space and if he has to spend the entire night being ignored he will absolutely lose his shit. Betty says nothing when he hands her a room key and they ride the elevator in silence up to their rooms.

The rooms are located right across the hall from one another but once inside it feels like they're worlds apart. Jughead is desperate to talk to her and he's never been desperate to talk to anyone.
Betty closes her door and examines the empty room. Already, she hates how lonely it is and he's only across the hall. She's sure he's going to leave her here, why else would he get them separate rooms? What goes on in that thick head of his, she may never understand. Does he want her or doesn't he? Her feelings for him began the moment he walked out and left her to pay his bill. He's a stubborn ass, that much is clear, but he can be sweet and she knows there's more to him than he lets on. If only he'd just let her in.

The first thing Jughead does is get in the shower. The water feels amazing, the heat of it melting away the tension in his back from the long hours of driving. He wonders what Betty is doing across the hall and figures she's probably showering as well. He craves to be with her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and feel her slick skin against his under the spray of the showerhead. He wants to wash her long blonde hair and run his fingertips over every curve of her perfect little body.

"Fuck," he grits through his teeth as his fist makes contact with the tiled shower wall. He watches as pink water drips from his fingertips and huffs a laugh at his freshly split knuckles. He hates losing his temper, but he always seems to. It's one of the biggest reason he stays away from people and it's a good reason Betty should stay away from him too.

Betty steps out of the shower feeling human again and she is in love with the rosewater scent of the hotel shampoo lingering in her hair. She pulls on a pair of cheeky lilac underwear and her last clean t-shirt before settling on the bed. After finding the remote on the nightstand, she clicks on the TV and searches for something to watch. Even with the chatter of the terrible soap opera she'd settled on, her room feels far too quiet. With a heavy sigh, she gets comfortable and does her best to ignore the hollow pit in her stomach.

A quiet knock sounds at her door and Betty gets up to peek out the peephole before slowly opening it. Jughead pushes his way through the threshold, the door bouncing off the wall with a thud as he dives forward, taking her lips in an urgent kiss. His kiss is desperate, his need to feel every inch of her mouth on his breaking down all hesitations lingering in his mind. Betty melts under his touch and he hauls her up easily, her legs wrapping around his waist and locking behind him. She can feel every inch of his arousal pressing upward against her barely clothed middle and all she can think about is how full she'd felt with him inside her. Jughead clumsily kicks the door closed behind him and carries her to the bed, dropping her onto her back and swiftly yanking off her underwear. Betty pulls her own shirt off before sitting up at the edge of the bed to push his boxers down his thighs. His cock springs up, bumping her chin and she immediately takes him into her mouth.

"Fuck," he hisses, gripping her damp hair in his fist. He uses it as leverage to thrust himself deeper into her throat and she hums around his cock. The vibration drives him wild, urging him to pull her roughly from his cock by the back of her head. She gazes up at him with hooded lids, her lips red and swollen. She's never looked more beautiful than she does now and he has to have her. With a quick hand, he rolls her over and positions her with her knees at the edge if the bed, her chest and head laid flat against the mattress. With her ass raised high in the air he can see every bit of her glistening folds and he can hardly contain his arousal at the sight of how wet she is for him. She's practically dripping and his tongue is desperate to taste her.

Betty whines with need as he drops to his knees, choking out a strangled moan as he licks a thick hot stripe from her sweet bundle of nerves to her slick entrance. He moans into her as he thrusts his tongue inside, lapping up her fluids like a man starved and savoring every drop.

"Fuck you taste so damn good baby," he groans, nipping at her thigh with his teeth.

Betty whimpers at the loss of his touch. "Fuck me Juggy," she begs and he is in no position to deny her. Standing on shaky legs, he positions himself behind her. Betty immediately presses back into him, his tip sinking inside her before he pulls back out. With a firm hand, he grips his cock and swirls his tip over her sensitive bud. The satisfied sigh she releases crumbles his resolve. He can resist no longer and thrusts his entire length inside her, slipping between her slick folds effortlessly as she cries out in both pleasure and pain. Without missing a beat, he pulls out until only his tip remains then thrusts back inside. He repeats the motion over and over, building speed as she presses back into every thrust, crying out his name as her legs shake. Her walls squeeze and pulse around his throbbing cock and he's fighting hard to hold on.

"Cum for my baby," he demands with a hard slap to her ass. Betty squeals at the sudden sting and she needs more of him.

"Fuck me harder," she begs, whining with need. His fingers dig into her hips, surely leaving bruises as he pulls her back to meet every thrust with force. Their skin slaps loudly together as she writhes and moans, digging her fingers into the mattress beneath her. Her thighs quiver with the clenching of her inner walls. She clenches tight around his cock, nestled so deep inside her he can barely handle the sensation.

"Oh, yes, Jughead. Fuck," she screams as her fluids coat his thighs, dripping onto the bedspread below. The squeeze around his tortured cock as she climaxes thrusts him over the edge. It hits him harder than ever before, his cock pulsing as she milks him of everything he has. Panting heavily, he lays himself lazily over her back as he tries to catch his breath, his cock still throbbing inside her as they savor the aftershock of their bliss.

After a few still moments, Jughead pulls out, hissing with the sensitivity of his tip as it slips from her core. Betty rolls onto her back before getting up and walking silently to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. She starts the shower and rinses herself out before just standing in the water, a smile stretching over her lips. A couple minutes go by before she hears the curtain pull back behind her. She smiles to herself as his arms snake around her waist and she sinks back into his chest. It's quiet, nothing but the rush of the water to fill the air as they find comfort in one another's touch.

"Betty," he whispers against her shoulder.

Betty hums in reply and rests the side of her head against his.

"Im sorry," he apologizes, so quietly she almost didn't hear him over the water. Betty turns in his arms to face him and finds a pained expression tugging at his features.

"What's wrong jug," she asks tenderly as she cups his cheeks.

"I said horrible things to you Betts. And after- you didn't talk to me and I just... Fuck, what's wrong with me," he grumbles, desperately fighting back tears. He can't even remember the last time he cried and the thought of crying in front of her is completely mortifying.

"We both said some pretty awful things Jug. I was just trying to give you some space. I forgive you if you can forgive me," she offers.

Jughead nods, not daring to speak for fear of a complete breakdown. Betty gently pulls his face down to hers and brushes her nose against his before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. He's overwhelmed with emotion as she pulls away leaving him craving the return of her soft kiss. He's never been kissed with so much care, so much tenderness and no one has ever looked at him the way she's looking at him right now. Every one of his instincts is telling him to run, to protect himself and push her away. Unfortunately, there's a bigger part of him that wants to let her in and he's never been more afraid. The two of them finish up before getting out and toweling off.

Betty slips her t-shirt and panties back on as Jughead pulls on his own boxers and heads for the door. Their eyes meet as he reaches for the doorknob, and Betty has never seen him so conflicted.

"Stay," she pleads softly. Jughead drops his hand and his gaze, taking in a deep, unsteady breath as he battles with himself. Before he can make a choice, Betty is at his side. She takes his hand and pulls him into her. Going against every one of his instincts, he melts into her embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and fisting the back of her t-shirt as he breathes in her scent. They stay there by the door as Betty rubs soothing circles against his back. He savors every ounce of her affection and he once again finds himself at the edge of tears. Pulling away quickly, he blinks his eyes hard, steeling himself before again reaching for the door.

"Please don't go," she pleads, putting herself between him and the door. She can't stand that he won't let himself feel and she's desperate to know what's forced him to be so reserved.

"Let me go," he pleads through his teeth fighting off emotions he hasn't felt in a long time. Betty stands her ground and his throat tightens as he chokes down the urge to break.
"Let me go," he pleads again, raising his voice as much as he can. Again Betty refuses to back down and his resolve is quickly thinning. Tears begin to pool in his eyes as he tries to pull open the door but Betty forces it shut and fights him with every ounce of force in her small frame.

"God dammit Betty! Just let me go," he shouts slamming his palm against the door above her head. Betty ignores his anger and wraps her arms around his waist. She can feel his tension releasing under her embrace but he still wants to fight her. He bangs his fist against the door once more with hardly any force as his resolve breaks down entirely. Tears run hot down his cheeks and he hangs his head in defeat.
"Fuck," he whimpers as he allows himself to be swept up in her arms. Betty holds him as he breaks and she knows in this moment that she is undeniably in love with him. She's never felt this way about anyone, not even Archie, and she's known him less than a week.

Jughead collects himself as quickly as he broke and clears his throat, wiping his face with his forearm. Betty cups his cheeks and kisses him gently on the forehead before looking into his red rimmed eyes. She's never gotten such a close look at his eyes and she's almost swept away in the stormy sea that makes up his irises. There's so much pain and sadness in his eyes, more than she'd ever expected and her heart breaks for him.

"Come lay with me," she whispers and he follows her to the bed without a fight. Betty pulls back the blankets and sits back against the headboard. He hesitates, giving in only when she holds out her arms for him. He feels absolutely desperate for her touch as he lays down almost on top of her. He rests his cheek on the swell of her breasts and hugs his arms around her waist, throwing one knee over hers. Betty rests a gentle hand between his shoulder blades as the other rakes through his dark hair. The beat of her heart against his ear and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest is soothing. Combined with the stroke of her fingers through his hair, he is significantly more relaxed and comfortable in her embrace.

"Jughead," Betty mutters, "can we talk about what just happened?"

Jughead shakes his head and buries his face into her chest. He absolutely does not want to talk about it. He'd rather pretend it never happened and he wishes he could go back and stop the whole thing. He's more than embarrassed that she saw him cry, but he's more worried that if he lets her in she won't like what she sees.

"Please jug," she pleads, "Something is clearly bothering you. I want to help." Leaning her head down, she places a kiss the top of his head.

Jughead groans into her shirt, not at all on board with the idea.

"Come on. I promise I'll just listen, no judgement, and you can stay right here. You don't even have to look at me if it helps," she offers.

"I don't want you to leave," he admits sheepishly, his eyes squeezing shut as he nuzzles deeper into her chest.

"What do you mean? I'm not going anywhere. You're kind of my ticket home," she jokes trying to get him more comfortable to open up.

Jughead laughs through his nose. "That's not what I meant." Sitting up, he squares his shoulders with hers as she moves to sit closer in front of him. He takes her hands in his and plays mindlessly with her fingers as he thinks of the best way to make her understand.

"Everyone leaves," he admits sadly before taking in a sharp breath. "You're right, I'm just your ticket home, and when you get there? That's it. You're leaving and I don't want you to." His eyes slowly peek out from under his lashes and Betty offers an understanding smile.

"You're more than just my ticket home Jug," she assures him as she rests her hand on his knee. She is met with a half-smile as his hand covers hers.

"Betty, I'm not good at this," he sighs, "I don't know how to let people in anymore. Hell, I've never known how to let people in. I don't even know where to start and honestly, I'm terrified."

"Ok. How about we start with Riverdale," she suggests, thinking common ground is a good place to start.

Jughead grimaces, feeling unsettled, but the beginning is probably the best place to start he supposes.

"Alright," he starts, "I grew up in Riverdale, was born there actually."

"I'm sorry, what," she questions in surprise, "You grew up in Riverdale? And we don't know each other? I mean you're only like five years older than me."

"That's because I grew up on the Southside," he admits a bit reluctantly and Betty nods in realization. "Yea. Pretty shitty place," he laughs humorlessly.

"What was it like," she questions cautiously.

"Rough," he shrugs. "Most of us grew up with similar situations, barely scraping by and fending for ourselves."

Betty gives his hand a squeeze and urges him to go on.

"Uh," he clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. "My dad drank a lot, still does as far as I know, so I got moved around in foster care a lot, but I always ended up back home," he shrugs, "He used to beat the fuck out of me. Usually just for shits and giggles and my mom was so fucked up all the time she didn't even notice. He used to fuck her up pretty good too, but the bitch deserved it."

"No one deserves that Jughead, not even your mom, and especially not you," she tells him, giving his knee a squeeze. Jughead huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Nah, I deserved it more than a few times. When I got older I used to pick fights with him just to get a good hit on him. He always beat me but it was worth every beating to watch that man bleed," he laughs, thinking back on the few times he really got his father good. "Anyways, for a long time I tried to keep our family together, but I gave up on that by the time I was eleven. I tried to protect my little sister from our horrible parents and when she was six I ended up calling child protective services to have her placed. She stayed with a few families but it was no better than home. Worse actually." He falls silent, tears gathered at his lashes as he sucks in a sharp breath. "I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for placing her. By the time she was nine she'd been molested by four different men who were supposed to be father figures. I did that to her Betty."

"Jughead, no," she cups his cheeks, "We don't have to talk about this," she tells him gently.

Smiling in appreciation, he takes her hands from his cheeks and kisses her knuckles before holding them in his lap. "Actually, I think I'd like to keep talking, unless I'm freaking you out. I'm freaking you out aren't I?"

"Not at all," she assures him, "This is your life. You lived this and survived it and I'm honored to be able to hear your story."

Jughead pulls her into a tender kiss and leans his forehead against hers.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"What for," she wonders as she sits back to look at him.

"For not thinking I'm broken," he says simply before clearing his throat. "So, uhm, child protective services? Crock of shit," he starts, finding a more casual tone, though he knows the hurt is apparent in his eyes and he avoids looking at her directly. "They don't do a whole lot for troubled preteen boys and I ended up homeless for a while after they couldn't find me placement. I refused to go back to my piece of shit dad. My mom had disappeared at that point, and dad was drinking more than ever." His eyes dart quickly up to hers, "Oh, I forgot to mention, I'm sure you've heard of the Southside Serpents, right?"

Betty nods.

"Do you know who their leader is," he questions.

"Oh, uh, shoot," she tries to think, "his names uh... FP Jones. Yea, he dated my mom in high school," she grimaces.

Jughead's eyes go wide with disbelief.

"Is your mom's name Alice by any chance," he wonders, thinking it's completely ridiculous to even assume.

"Uh, yea. How did you know," she questions warily, "I don't think I've mentioned her."

"FP Jones is my father," he admits, certain he's just ruined every chance he ever had with her.

"You're not serious," she questions in complete disbelief.

"Serious as a fucking heart attack princess," he smirks, "The serpents are the reason I can't go back to Riverdale. They're the reason I sort of went rogue and moved to Michigan."

It's nearly 8:00pm when the two of them decide to order pizza. They've been talking for nearly an hour, backtracking a little to Jughead's younger years before continuing their conversation about the serpents. Jughead is absolutely shocked at how easily he can talk to Betty and the more he talks the easier it seems to get.

"Ok," he says through a mouthful of pizza, "So my dad became the leader of the Serpents when I was like four or five and that's pretty much when shit hit the fan. He took over and the serpents started moving a lot of drugs, so there goes mom. Dad's already aggressive drinking problem gets worse, my sister's born addicted to heroin and then there's me trying to pick up the pieces."

"That's-"

"A lot," he chuckles, wiping a drip of sauce from his lips with the back of his hand.

Betty nods, a sad smile touching her lips before he continues.

"so when I was sixteen, I had been homeless by choice for almost three years. It wasn't that bad most of the time but I got jumped one night. Got stabbed three times," he tells her, turning around to show her his back. There are three short scars along his upper back one scarily close to his spine and another nestled between the lines of his ribs.

"Had a collapsed lung, I flat lined twice, and they were pretty sure I was never going to walk again." He takes a long sip of his soda. "I was in the hospital for months and my dad never visited once."

"Oh, Jug," she coos, reaching over to touch his knee.

"It's alright," he assures her, "A few Serpents that were around my age actually looked out for me and when I got out they offered to jump me in so I'd be under protection of the Serpents," he shrugs before taking a bite of his second slice of pizza.

"So were you," she asks, completely fascinated by his life, "Jumped in I mean."

"Yea," he shrugs, "They're the only reason I didn't die on the streets before I hit eighteen. I was jumped in and inked. Being a serpent comes with a lot of bullshit though and with my father as my boss, he used to send me into some really scary shit." He pauses, staring at her with a serious expression, "I'm not going to tell you the things I've done or the awful shit I've seen, but I'll tell you I'm not proud of it. I did what I had to, to survive. Which brings me to why I can't go back to Riverdale. When I turned eighteen, I wanted out of the serpents, but the serpents are for life. The only way out is banishment or death. So, I chose banishment."

"What did you do," she wonders, her slice of pizza long forgotten on the plate beside her.

"One of the rules is that Serpents don't harm their own. I broke that rule." Looking her over carefully, he contemplates how much he should tell her before deciding that she deserves to know what kind of man he is. "I uh," he clears his throat, "I sliced off one of the most beloved female Serpent's ink and left her for dead. She was a real bitch though. My ex actually, so it was personal."

Betty doesn't seem to be the slightest bit fazed by what he's just said, but he's still surprised when she offers him comfort with the brush of her thumb over his knee.

"So, after that I was voted out and banished," he shrugs, "As punishment they cut off my tattoo and if I ever return to Riverdale I'll be killed on the spot."

"Ok, so you are definitely not bringing me to Riverdale."