Definition of Want (Bughead)

VOYEUR

At exactly 9 pm, there was a knock on Betty's bedroom door.

"It's open."

Jughead cracked it open. Betty gnawed her lip nervously, watching him enter the room. Betty was sprawled out on her bed, wearing a silky robe that her cousin Cheryl had bought her years ago, but she'd never had the urge to wear.

She'd dressed up a little for the occasion like it was a holiday or something. It wasn't. It was just a regular Thursday, but nevertheless, there was something in the air tonight. Charged and willing, it sparked goosebumps over her skin.

She shifted on her pathetically juvenile flower bedsheets, hoping to strike an alluring pose. She'd let her hair down, put on some red lipstick, a pair of thigh highs and heels. She didn't know if that's what Jughead found sexy. It's what Betty when she did admire girls, found sexy. Then again, this was asking quite a bit of her, so she wasn't going to be bending over backward to please Jug.

If she was going to do this, she was going to feel confident and sexy.

"Damn," Jughead breathed once he saw her.

"You like it?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to sound breathless. Jughead nodded furiously, mutely.

"Why don't you take a seat?"

Betty had cleared off her desk chair specifically for him and wheeled it into the corner. That was probably the best, wasn't it? It was supposed to be like Jug watching porn; an observer. Just present, but not an active participant.

Jughead sat down quickly, leaning back into the chair. Betty caught his eye, just for a quick second, before she steeled herself. The excitement was already warming her body, specifically her lower half, so she knew she'd have no trouble getting going.

She untied her robe, letting it pool around her figure on the bed. Underneath, she was wearing her nicest pair of lace underwear, and currently the only set she had that matched. Thank god for Veronica and her strangely intimate gifts, she mentally thought. If she didn't own this, it would have been her nice lace white bra and either a matching shaded cotton pair of underwear or a totally different styled thong. It would have looked strange and tonight was all about the presentation. Point being, she was very glad for this matching set.

She unclipped her bra. Jughead had already seen her topless at the party, but it still made her stomach clench. She tried not to think about it too much.

She went to take off her heels, but Jughead's voice startled her.
"No, leave them on," He said, watching her without blinking. Betty retreated back up.

"And these?" She asked, running her nails along the pattern of the thigh-highs.

"Those too," Jughead commanded.

Betty hummed. She could work with that.

Her thumbs latched under her underwear. Betty knew if she backed out now, Jughead would probably be disappointed, but wouldn't get mad.

Did she want to?

Jughead seeing her breasts was one thing, but presenting her naked body was totally different. Nervousness danced over her skin but deciding she had laughed in the face of death in high school (literally) she could do this in front of Jughead.

It wasn't like she didn't masturbate, she wasn't a prude.

Jughead's breath hitched as she took off her underwear, letting it fall with her other clothes. She was completely vulnerable in front of him and utterly drenched already. To be sitting here basically nude, sans her thighs down, while Jughead was dressed the way he came in was some strange turn-on for her.