Something Not Quite Right- But Not Quite Wrong

A/n - Trigger Warning: Rape/Non-Con/Sexual Assault

Nothing too explicit, mostly mentioned, a little bit of description though.

Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of my Riverdale fic "Something Not Quite Right- But Not Quite Wrong".

It is a very angsty, queer, and trauma filled canon divergent story. Triggers will be added to every chapter, so please be aware of what you're getting into before delving into it.

Also- Jughead is trans, but isn't out yet. So any mentions of this girl named Jones? It's just what Betty and Archie call him, instead of his birth name.

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It was the blazing heat of that summer, that found Archie queasy, and begging his father to leave work early that day. He was given a worried look, and he'd insist that he could walk home just fine, perhaps lying that one of his slightly older friends could give him a ride. Fred would still share with him his worries, but allows him to go- "just text me when you're home" he'd said.

Archie agreed, nodding. Waving a goodbye to his dad, and trudging his way back home. Legs aching, head throbbing- sweat that leaked from his face and his pits, staining and drenching his shirt, making his hair appear greasy, and a bit slicked back. And all too far in his journey hoping that he'd brought a water bottle. He thinks he might be dying.

Which, given his history of sports, he knew was ridiculous. There were a few times- or more than a few, Archie was forgetful sometimes, even when he didn't mean to be- that he'd been playing, and had gotten that all too familiar dizzy dehydrated feeling. This 90 degree summer day would be no match for Archie- Archie that had gone through worse conditions during sports.

It wasn't the heat he'd have to worry about, though. It was her. He could never recall if he had heard her little sky blue, Volkswagen Beetle pulling up besides him- but he did know she spoke first. Surprised to see him, noticing how miserable he looked. "Why don't you come in?" She suggested.

He should have listened to his gut feeling. Her question made a sick sort of feeling form in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't be accepting rides from strangers. But, he reasoned, Ms. Grundy wasn't a stranger- she was the music teacher. A young woman that he had recognized, almost soon as she recognized him. He had seen her through the halls, and the few times he had tried taking music- he didn't feel very good at it, but he enjoyed it. He eventually had dropped the class- in favor of after school sports.

He nods back to her, still unsure, but smiling. He wipes a sweaty hand on his pants, opening one of the tiny doors, and clambering inside. Not very graceful. He forgets to tell her where to go. They drive for a while, in silence. "So, Archie?" Her soft, older, voice startles him.

"Yeah?" He all but mutters out.

"How's your music going? It was a shame you had to drop out- you were one of my better students," she muses.

Archie doesn't know how to respond to that. Him? Talented? He didn't think so. "Thank you," it comes out more confused than the confidence he'd hoped for. "I-I've been writing."

Ms. Grundy seems to notice his face brighten, smiling back to him. An all teeth sort of deal. "Oh? You'll have to share sometime. I'm sure it's wonderful."

He feels an intensely warm blush creep across his face, looking away from her, leaning his body against the car door. He can feel her fingers grace the top of his knee, and slowly, and quietly, work there way back. But before Archie can look, and tell her to stop- there gone. As if they were never there in the first place. He'd be silly to bring it up now.

He realizes, as they pull into a nearly empty parking lot- that this isn't the way home. "Uhm- Ms. Grundy?"

"Geraldine. I told you to call me, Geraldine."

Oh, she had? He hadn't remembered that, he figured he must have spaced out a bit. The heat will do that to you. "Sorry, Geraldine. I think my house is back the other way."

Behind the prettiest smile he'd ever seen- she gave him an almost devilish look. "Oh, we don't need to worry about that, Archie." She purrs, unbuckling her seatbelt. Her hands grazing near his thigh again, pushing into the release button instead. He hears the seatbelt whip back into place.

He's not sure what's going on. But he thinks back to the times he had watched those trashy teen flicks with his friends. Betty had seemed very into them, he thinks it may be mostly a girl thing. But Jones didn't like them as much. He supposes that she was also a girl of taste, and generally enjoyed the classics and more obscure, artistically crafted films- than whatever garbage they consumed during those sleepovers.

It was those teen movies that gave him the slightest clue of what Geraldine wanted- and he didn't appreciate it. He frantically tries turning around, and grabbing the handle- but she beats him to it, pressing the lock down. Her fingers following down, down, down. He was bigger, and most likely stronger, than her- he could easily over power her. But he freezes. Every action that he could have taken, dies down in his mind. His body tense, and unable to move. Terrified of everything- and still staying.

"It's okay, Archie." It's okay, okay, repeats in his mind. Okay, okay, okay.

Her fingers find themselves playing with the button of his jeans, pulling his zipper down, and roughly getting him out, getting it out. No, no, no.

She'd finally dropped him off, hours before his dad would be back, and hours after Archie should have been home. "We should do this again." She smiles, knowing all too well what she had done. "How does July, the fourth, sound?" He weakly nods, slowly finding himself in his room. Feeling dazed, and not quite there. Not really there. He lays in his bed, eyes open no matter how many times they try to close from exhaustion. Afraid that when he opens them again he won't be there anymore.

He'd forgotten to text his father, something his father would push about tomorrow- and he'd lie again, saying he'd forgotten. He'd still gotten home, and safe- even though he didn't feel safe. He felt disgusting, not just from the sweat. Waking up in cold sweats. He'd try scrubbing himself clean, so hard patches of his skin would turn red. Allowing himself to cry, loud and obnoxious, as the shower water drowned his sounds. Still feeling just as dirty.

Ms. Grundy- no, no, no- Geraldine, would follow through with her promise on fourth of July. Fred Andrews was at work, and Archie had been given the day off- almost forgetting about certain arrangements. No other neighbor seemed to be present, and if they were, seemed to not notice or even perhaps ignore the stranger loitering around the Andrews' residence. Archie heard the sound of the Beetle this time, having been in the middle of grabbing a bite to eat. He pulls the curtains back, his heart sinking as they lock eyes. He goes back into the kitchen, but he can still hear her car. He makes the mistake of heading out. Maybe nothing would happen this time.

"Will you leave if I come with you?" Implying that this would be the last time, and he hoped to not see her car around here again.

She gives that devilish smile again. "Of course."

He's not sure why he goes. He could have stayed inside, same as he could of stopped her the first time. So it's okay, okay, okay, this time around. Because he wanted it.