A/N: Valentine's in April on FF? Sure.
"You could have told me you were single, you know," he almost shouts as he's pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side.
Her hair is half pulled out of her ponytail as she tugs at his own shirt, yanking it over his head. "You could have asked!"
"Oh yeah, that's a good conversation starter, "Hey, Betty, are you fucking that guy I've had to listen to you talk about for the last few months?" he says sarcastically, threading his fingers through her hair, letting it down all the way.
"It's a lot better than what happened, you know," she chides, already undoing the button on his jeans.
"Well if you're gonna bring that up-"
"It was like an hour ago!"
He's staring daggers at the guy sitting next to Betty, he knows. He hates that guy.
Hates him.
Irrationally.
Unadulterated irrational hate of the highest order.
Sitting next to the girl he's stupid in love with as he watches from afar, as she smiles brightly at him, pointing at something on her phone as he laughs, nudging her with his shoulder as her cheeks turn pink.
Ugh, he thinks, that guy is the worst.
He'd been hearing about him for months now, the guy from back home Betty just adooooores. Jughead, you'll love him, she swears more than once. He's coming to visit for Valentine's Day, we should hang out, she says.
No thanks.
He's still watching as she looks up and sees him, waving with a smile, beckoning him over.
He gives her a salute and gets up to leave, ignoring the confused look on her stupid boyfriend's face and missing the hurt look on hers.
Self-preservation, Jughead, he tells himself. It's self-preservation.
It only lasts until she catches up with him, dragging him unwillingly back to the table where she and her stupidly lucky boyfriend is sitting.
"Jughead, this is Archie. Arch, this is Jughead." Betty introduces them with a smile, like they're gonna be the very best of friends.
Unlikely. Arch? What kind of stupid name is Arch? Are you an architectural structure there, Arch?
Ugh. He's bitter, he knows.
But fuck you, Archie.
"Hey man, nice to meet you," Archie says affably, holding out a hand.
Jughead eyes his hand, almost ignoring it but catches the hopeful look on Betty's face and knows he can't deny her anything. Shaking it, he gives the guy an almost civil nod.
"Betty's told me all about you," Archie informs him as Betty sits and pulls him down to a chair next to her.
"Hmm," Jughead hums out, acting like a total asshole but seemingly incapable of helping himself. "She's mentioned you once or twice."
Betty gives a nervous little laugh as she looks at him warily. "So, Jug, what are your plans for today?"
Turning his full attention to her, he softens at the confusion and apprehension on her face. It's not her fault she's dating someone else as he was quietly falling for a girl he's only known for a few months.
Okay, suck it up, he insists to his own brain, hoping for the best.
"Not much," he says, shrugging. "Yours?"
Betty glances at Archie, whose eyes are flicking between them, just gives him a tight lipped smile. "Maybe a movie marathon? You know, staying in-"
At that, Jughead jumps up. The picture of her and Archie in her room, watching movies and cuddling and most likely having sex is too much for him to even contemplate as he takes off, leaving them behind with a mumbled excuse of needing to check on an assignment.
She's got his jeans undone and he's working hers over her hips when she looks up at him wide-eyed, stopping his hands.
"We should probably do this in your bedroom," she says, looking around for his roommate, some guy he barely sees and is barely aware of.
"Okay, yeah," he agrees. "Yeah. We should definitely do that."
They're breathing heavy and staring at each other when they reach for each other again, his hands on her cheeks as she wraps her arms around him, kissing deeply before he grabs her under her thighs, hoisting her up and carrying her to where he hopes is his bedroom.
A pit stop against a wall distracts him as he realizes her breasts are pushed up against his chest, and he groans at the feeling.
Kissing her once more before resting his forehead on her chest, he's almost panting into her skin. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."
"Did you mean to say that to me or my chest?" she asks, her own breathing sounding heavy.
"Both," he murmurs, and she laughs. "Fuck me, definitely both." The feeling of her breasts moving against him with her laughter has him wishing he was smart enough to have taken her pants off before deciding to carry her around.
"Your room, Jug," she commands, nails biting into his shoulder as he adjusts his grip under her thighs, praying they actually make it to a bed before he ends up fucking his dream girl on the floor of his hallway.
"Yeah," he says. "Let's do that."
He meets Betty on the first day of classes, smiling politely at him and asking if the seat next to him was taken.
Gesturing to the seat on his right, his heart skips a beat when her face lit up, sitting next to him and pulling out a book to read before class started.
He lasts for maybe two minutes before he starts asking her questions, nonsense really but he just wanted to talk to her. She's smart, smarter than he is by far, and warm and welcoming, and by the time class is over, he's making plans with her to study together.
It goes like that for months, they study and people watch. They eat together and watch movies, arguing over the credibility of terrible men who make fantastic movies. Arguing over whether or not he likes them because some obscure reviewer who thinks coffee should be as bitter as one's soul likes them or if he genuinely enjoys them.
Fighting over the validity of the classic rom-com. Why are love stories less valid, she yells at him, if they don't come with a murder mystery?
Logic! he yells back, making her laugh before he realizes how dumb they both sound shouting about movies when everyone knows the only thing worth truly arguing over is food.
Neither of them make sense they decide before ordering take-out and falling asleep on each other on his secondhand sofa.
He wants to kiss her hundreds of times and decides to do so after she returns from Christmas break. He stays behind while she goes home, and though he's heard about her friends before, they've never visited, never called her while they were together.
Assuming they were close but not too close, he'd shrugged it off, taking advantage of the fact that their time alone was their own. It's not like he had too many people to call him either. When she comes back after the holidays, talking a mile a minute about someone coming to visit her, his heart drops to his feet.
He tells himself it's not a big deal. They're still friends. She thinks he'll really like him, she says consistently, like it's important to her that he likes her mystery boyfriend. And he promises himself he's going to try. He does.
But then.
Their pants are off, he's got no idea where his hat is or why he's still wearing socks with his boxers but he doesn't care because he's got Betty laid out on his too small bed, bra and panties matching with their little red hearts on a white background.
"Holiday themed underwear?" he asks, smirking at her cockily.
"I was hoping you'd see them but if you're gonna be a jerk about it-"
"Oh no," he interrupts. "I don't think so. I will wear these myself if that's what you want, as long as you stay in this room with me."
She's staring at him like she's seriously considering it, one eyebrow raised as she bites the corner of her lip. "Can I take pictures?"
"No," he says immediately. "Maybe. How long will pictures keep you in the room with me?"
Laughing, she shoves at his shoulder with her foot, almost toppling him from where he is sitting on his knees between her legs.
Catching a foot, he barely manages to hang on. "Three pictures, poses optional, for your undivided attention for twenty-four hours."
Her giggles are contagious as he runs his hands up her legs, reaching for the waist of her panties.
"I don't know," she breathes out, her breath catching as he moves the fabric down her hips and over her thighs. "Seems like very little work on your part for a lot of work on mine."
"Don't worry," he says softly, laying between her legs, putting her thighs on his shoulders, "I can definitely do enough work for the both of us."
She catches up with him after he takes off, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he insists, trying to turn back around.
"What the hell, Jughead!?"
"Betty," he says wearily, breathing deep, trying to control the swirling of irrational anger, disappointment, and jealousy. "Go back to your boyfriend."
"What are you talking about? I wanted you to meet Archie, I think the two of you could be great friends-"
Jughead laughs derisively. "No. I am not going to be able to be friends with Archie, okay?"
"What? Why? Why are you mad at me?" Betty asks, clearly hurt and confused.
"I'm not mad at you," he admits. "I'm mad at me."
"Why?"
He takes a deep breath, meeting her eyes. "Betty. Come on. You know I like you-"
"I like you too."
"No, I mean, I like you. I want to hold your hand and do things like touch your face while I kiss you. Also, truthfully, a number of things that would get me beaten up by your boyfriend-"
"I like you too, Jug. And I don't know why you think Archie is my boyfriend but-"
"He's not your boyfriend?" Jughead cuts in, narrowing his eyes at her.
"If he was, I don't think he'd have liked listening to me talk about some guy named Jughead since school started. I told you, my friend was coming to see me for Valentine's Day because it's the only weekend he could before spring break."
"So let me get this straight. Archie is not your boyfriend who came up to see you on what is marketed as one of the most romantic days of the year?"
She rolls her eyes at him. "I tried to invite you to watch movies with me, what about that screams I'm dating someone else?"
"The part where I assumed you were telling me your plans, not inviting me?"
Betty exhales heavily. "Seriously?"
"What?"
"How much harder do I have to flirt with you for you to take a hint? Do I have to hold you down and sit on you until you-"
"Yes, all of those, yes, you should do them now," he interjects. Reaching for her face, he cups her cheeks in his hands before kissing her, the feeling of his lips on hers making a thousand daydreams reality, hitting him all at once, almost making his knees weak.
Deepening the kiss as he feels the tip of her tongue against his lips, he barely holds back a moan before breaking it and stepping back, grabbing her hand, pulling her along behind him.
"Where are we going?"
"Months, Betty, I have been waiting for you for months! We're going to go where we can be alone," he tells her, looking over his shoulder at her, seeing her amused smile as she jogs a bit to keep up with his fast pace.
The first pass of his tongue against her slit makes her jump. The second makes her shiver. The third makes her clench her thighs against the sides of his head.
Feeling fairly smug about his progress, he flicks his tongue against her clit, her toes curling into his back as she moans his name and grabs his hair. Sliding a finger into her, he sucks her clit softly as he slips in and out her in a rhythm that has her arching her back, making incoherent sounds as he keeps grabbing at him.
Losing some hair to her tight grip is worth the noise she makes when she comes, a low feminine whimper that he wants to the be soundtrack of his life, the taste of her something he didn't know he was missing, the feel of her skin against his the home he'd been looking for.
Crawling up and over her, pushing her bra off her breasts as he takes a nipple into his mouth, a gentle nip and suck before moving to grab a condom out of the nightstand. Rolling it on, he settles between her thighs, looking down at her.
"Yeah?" he asks in a whisper.
Nodding, Betty wraps her legs around him, pulling him into her, making him gasp at the sensation of slipping into her. Pushing his face into her hair, he presses kisses against wherever he can reach as he slides in and out of her, his speed increasing with the heat racing up his spine and the tightness in his abdomen.
He pushes himself over the edge when he feels her clenching around him, the whimper in his ear sending him into a burst of white hot pleasure with a stuttering of his hips against hers, biting her neck to muffle the shout that tries to break free.
Gasping, he rolls off of her when he can feel his legs again, pulling her into his chest and kissing her temple.
"That was-" he starts but can't finish.
"Fantastic," she finishes for him.
He's cleaning up when he hears her sit up quickly.
"Jug, I just left Archie sitting there!" she exclaims, scrambling for her phone.
Laughing, he can't help how much he honestly doesn't care about her friend on an unfamiliar campus at the moment.
She brings her phone back to the bed, crawling into it and settling down next to him, adjusting her bra back to where it belongs. Handing him the phone with a roll of her eyes he reads through the series of texts.
Betty, are you coming back?
Did you tell him that you like him?
You should probably tell him
Since I haven't seen you in the last half hour I assume you told him
Hey, Betty, don't worry, I found someone to show me around while you're busy
I got invited to a party, I'll text you tomorrow, okay?
Jughead chuckles, handing the phone back to her.
"Archie always lands on his feet," Betty tells him with fondness in her tone.
Nodding, Jughead wraps an arm around her, leaning back against the headboard. "Hey, I'm sorry, I should have done something for you for Valentine's Day but I was, you know, acting like a jealous idiot."
"Valentine's Day? Is that today?" she asks, coyly. "Who cares about that? Haven't you heard today is National Ferris Wheel Day?"
"Is it?"
"It is."
"I don't have a ferris wheel for you to ride, Betty," he tells her, a mock serious look on his face.
"I'm open to suggestions for substitutions."
Shaking his head in amusement, he pins her down as he rolls over her. "If you want something to ride, Betty, all you have to do is ask."