Prompt: Archie finding out that Betty lost her virginity to Jughead and got jealous because he was supposed to be her first and she gets mad


Jughead has a weird look on his face when Archie finds him in the common room at school on Monday. His mouth is kind of turned up at the edges, almost like he's… smiling? Archie can't remember the last time he saw his friend give a genuine smile.

He grins as he approaches Jughead.

"Hey, man," he says. "What are you so happy about?"

"Betty and I are back together," Jughead says, unable to hide his joy, though he's clearly trying to. Happiness doesn't really gel with his vibe.

"That's great!" Archie replies automatically. Because of course it's great. Why wouldn't it be? His two best friends back together and happy again. Nothing could make him happier. Only, his own grin drops a little. Not enough for Jughead to notice, but it's smaller all the same. He's just surprised, that must be it.

"Yeah, and we uh—we had sex," Jughead grins even wider, not even bothering to pretend not to be happy anymore. Archie's smile fades completely, though he can't imagine why.

"You did?" Archie says dumbly. He's not sure why the confession from Jughead has him feeling like there are rocks in his stomach. "When? Where? How?"

Jughead looks vaguely amused at Archie's string of questions, but he answers them all anyway.

"It was after Veronica's confirmation party," Jugheads tells Archie. "In my Dad's trailer. And we kind of just talked and then it just… happened," Jughead shrugs, smirking. Archie nods, not sure what else to say. Jughead's smile drops for a second and he looks alarmed. "Oh, sorry for bringing up Veronica."

"It's fine," Archie assures him. Veronica had dumped him at her own confirmation. Apparently for his own protection. Whatever her reasons, it still stings. But he can't go around making everyone stop saying her name. And he's going to see her eventually. Probably today, at school.

Archie wracks his brain for the kinds of things he's supposed to say to his friend when he's just had sex for the first time. But it's Betty, and nothing seems appropriate.

Archie swallows, shutting his eyes for a second. Why is this so hard for him to come to terms with? So what if Betty and Jughead had sex? They were bound to eventually. It's none of his business, except to be a supportive friend.

"Are you okay?" Jughead asks him. Archie nods, forcing himself to look at Jughead.

"Yeah… it's just…" he pauses. "Veronica I guess. You and Betty are so happy, and Veronica and I just broke up. But I'm happy for you," Archie tacks on. Because he is. He is.

"Thanks, man," Jughead grins, slapping Archie on the back. "I mean it was nice, but it was the first time for both of us, so it's only going to get better right?"

"Right," Archie manages. "Right."


Archie decides he doesn't need to be happy that Betty and Jughead had sex. He doesn't need to have any feelings towards it at all, because he doesn't need to think about it. It's their business.

Except, he can't stop thinking about it.

Not, like, visualising it. (Gross). Just thinking about that fact that it happened. (And okay, maybe visualising it a little. But not much. And not on purpose.)

He can barely look Betty in the eye when she and Veronica join Archie and Jughead in the common room before school. But he can't look at Veronica either, so he just mumbles some kind of excuse about needing to borrow something from Reggie and hastily makes his exit, not even noticing that Reggie bumps his shoulder walking into the common room as Archie walks out.

He makes his way to his locker, not really sure what else to do. He stands there looking blankly into it for a few seconds, until Betty's voice startles him.

"Hey, Arch," she says, and he can already hear the sympathy in her voice. Except she doesn't know he knows about her and Jughead, and even if she did, she wouldn't expect him to be upset about it, so what— "I'm sorry about you and Veronica."

Oh, that.

"It's fine, Betty," Archie says, slamming his locker shut. "You don't need to be sorry." He gives her a half-hearted smile.

"Still," she says. "I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Betty," he says. He swallows, the image of Jughead pulling off Betty's dress, of her kissing him, surfacing into his mind. He grits his teeth, his mouth tastes like dirt. He needs to get a handle on these out of line emotions. "I've got to go," he says quickly. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Betty nods, and Archie hurries off in the direction of his first class, before realising he doesn't have his books. He waits until he knows she's gone before he goes back to get them.


By the time Archie gets home, he's finally ready to acknowledge what this burning, strangling feeling is.

Jealousy.

He's fucking jealous. Which is ridiculous. Archie doesn't get jealous. Even as a kid he never wanted the other kids' toys. Never felt like he was owed something, wasn't angry that other people had it better than him. He was always happy that other people were happy. He should be feeling that way now.

But instead his throat feels constricted, his stomach is tight, and he can't keep his hands from balling into fists, as if he's ready to fight someone. He hates himself.

For the first time in his life he wants something he can't have, and it feels awful.

And that also means admitting to himself that he does want her. And it's so fucking messed up, because he could have had her. She offered herself up to him so sweetly and he rejected her. And now? Now he's lying on his bed, full of self-pity and loathing, wishing he could just be happy for his two friends.

It's just that, somewhere, deep down inside, Archie had always thought that he would be Betty's first. Which is ridiculous, of course. What did he think, that she was going to wait for him forever? Of course not.

And maybe if he was still with Veronica, he wouldn't be feeling this way. Which makes him feel even worse. He really is an asshole.

The best thing he can think of is that he'll have to avoid both Betty and Jughead, as well as Veronica, until he can grow up and get over it.


Only Betty notices something is up with him. Veronica is clearly trying to avoid him as well, and Jughead seems to just be oblivious.

Betty corners him in the music room one lunch time. He's taken up playing again as a cover for why he isn't hanging out with them. Of course, Betty sees right through him. She's always been able to.

"Hey," she says, shutting the door to the music room behind her. Archie watches her, still holding the guitar, a shield between him and Betty. "Haven't seen you much lately."

"Just trying to get back into it," he gestures to the guitar. Betty nods. She wanders over to him, hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Archie looks up at her, trying not to let his mind wander. Betty sits on a stool beside him.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concerned. Archie's jaw clenches, a reflexive gesture. He nods shortly. "Archie," Betty says, knowingly. "You can talk to me," she says gently. Archie says nothing.

"I know you're hurting," Betty continues, reaching for his hand. He shifts out of her reach, and she tries not to look hurt. "It'll get better," Betty promises. "I'm sure Veronica had her reasons, and she's hurting too."

"Yeah," Archie agrees. If he can just agree with her, maybe he can get her to go away before he blurts out something stupid.

"Arch, come on," Betty persists. "Talk to me. I'm not going to say anything to Veronica. You're my best friend. I love Veronica but—"

"It's not about Veronica," Archie finally cuts her off. Betty looks taken aback.

"It's not? Then—"

"It's about you," Archie says. "Which is why I can't talk to you about it." In fact, he's probably already said too much.

Betty stares at him, confused. "You can still talk to me. Especially if it's about me. If I've done something or said something… or…" she trails off, frustrated. "Whatever it is, Arch. I don't want you to be unhappy."

Archie groans. He knows he'll regret telling her. But maybe if he just gets it off his chest… maybe she won't hate him.

"Jughead told me about how you and he… had sex," Archie finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

"Oh," Betty reddens. "Are you upset I didn't tell you?"

"I'm upset it happened at all," Archie admits, a little flippantly, but that's the only way he can get it out.

"I… don't understand," Betty shakes her head, confused. "Why?"

"Because it should've been me!" Archie snaps. Betty flinches, and Archie immediately regrets his tone. "It should've been me," he repeats, lowering his voice. "I was meant to be your first."

Betty's expression changes from one of confusion to one of utter contempt.

"You have got to be kidding me," she spits.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Archie says hastily, finally putting down the guitar. "I know I have no right to feel this way. I don't want to feel this way."

"You're goddamn right you don't," Betty says angrily, standing up. "How could you? You had your chance with me, Archie Andrews, and now you're what jealous because someone else had me first? You disgust me."

"I know," Archie says. He has no excuses. Everything she's saying is true. He deserves it.

"I'm not some collectable for your shelf of women, Archie," Betty says coldly. Archie flinches. That one hits close to home. "Grow up."

The venom in her voice seeps into his veins as she storms out of the music room, sucking all the life out of him. Never has he felt more pathetic and foolish. Not only is he never going to get to be with her, he's also ruined any chance of them remaining friends. Not that he doesn't deserve it. He's an idiot. A first-class dickhead.

He feels like crying, but that would just make him even more pathetic, so he just picks the guitar back up and tries to sing.


Betty, I'm so sorry. Read 5:33pm.

The message goes unanswered, not that Archie is surprised.

He tells his dad he's not hungry and skips dinner, instead electing to mope alone in his room.

All that stuff I said. I know it was awful. I'm sorry I said it. I'm sorry I felt it. I just want to be friends again. Read 6:27pm.

He gets a reply ten minutes later.

I'm coming over.

Archie leaps off his bed, and hurries to put a shirt on and tidy his room a little. He can't remember the last time he and Betty were alone in his room together. In fact, he doesn't know if he remembers the last time Betty even came over to his house.

But all of a sudden, she's standing in his doorway, knocking lightly on the wooden frame. His dad must have let her in.

"Betty," he says dumbly. Silence. "Betty, I'm so sorry—" he starts.

"I know, Arch," she says gently. She called him Arch. That's a good sign. She walks into the messy room, looking a little out of place in her pristine pink sweater. "And I don't entirely forgive you. But I will."

Archie smiles softly. She's always been too good to him. Too good for him.

Betty sits down on his bed and he joins her cautiously, making sure not to sit too close. He lets the silence linger, knowing it's her time to speak.

"I get it, you know," she says finally. "Once upon a time I thought you would be my first too," she says a little sadly, nostalgia in her voice. "But I thought I would be your first too. Instead it was—"

"Grundy," Archie finishes. At for the first time, he feels sick at the thought of it. He wishes now that Betty had been his first. The images she's conjured up in him looks so nice. He'd like to live in that world. "I'm so sorry, Betty."

"I know," Betty sighs. "But you have to understand, I'm with Jughead. I love Jughead."

"I know."

"We're going to do it right this time. We're going to be open and honest with each other," Betty says firmly.

"Did you tell him about the kiss?" Archie asks. It's the first time either of them has brought it up since it happened, and suddenly the air is tense and thick.

"No," Betty admits. "Did you tell Veronica?"

"Yes."

"Is that why…?"

"We broke up because she wanted to protect me from her father," Archie says. He's sure about that.

"Oh," Betty nods. "I'm going to tell him."

"Okay. Make sure you do it before Cheryl does."

"Cheryl knows?" Betty exclaims, like nothing could be worse. Maybe nothing could be worse.

"Apparently she saw us," Archie tells her.

"Great," Betty mutters. She stands up. "I'm going to go now. I'll let you know when I've forgiven you."

Archie nods and Betty heads for the door. She stops in the doorway and turns back.

"Archie?" she says hesitantly.

"Yeah, Betts?"

"I have to know… do you really want me, or do you only want me because someone else has me?"

Archie debates lying to her. He's not sure which answer she wants to hear, which would be easier for her to handle. He elects to go with the truth.

"I really want you."

Betty flees.


The rest of the week seems to pass normally. Archie re-joins his friends for lunch, and it's not as awkward as he thought it would be. The sight of Betty and Jughead together still feels like a punch in the gut, but he'll get used to it. He can't tell if Betty hasn't told Jughead about the kiss or if she's told him and he's fine with it.

By Saturday afternoon, he's almost feeling like a normal person again. Betty hasn't said she's forgiven him, but it seems like she has. He and Veronica have only been broken up a week, but already they're on better terms, and it hurts less and less every time he sees her. He's going to be okay.

He's in the garage on Saturday afternoon, the rain pelting down in the tin roof while he struggles to come up with any decent lyrics. He's got the garage door open, hoping the storm might inspire him. It doesn't. He's about to call it quits and go inside when he looks up and sees a soaking wet Betty standing just inside the garage entrance.

He hair and clothes stick to her, and though it's pouring outside, she clearly hasn't just come from next door. She's breathing heavy and her eyes are rimmed red. Her bottom lip trembles.

Archie immediately stands up and puts his guitar down. He's about to walk over to her, but something about her demeanour stops him. She's upset, definitely. But he thinks she might be angry too, and there's every possibility she's angry at him.

"Betty?" he says hesitantly. "What's wrong?"

"Jughead broke up with me," she says. Her voice is quiet, and Archie realises she's not angry with him after all. She's angry with herself. "Cheryl told him that you and I kissed before I could."

Archie doesn't say anything.

"He yelled. Told me he couldn't trust me. Told me he always knew I'd go back to you," Betty laughs humourlessly.

"I'm sorry," Archie whispers.

"I don't want you to be sorry," Betty spits.

"Okay," Archie says, not sure what she's expecting from him. "What do you want?"

"You still want me?" Betty asks him. "Take me. Have me."

Archie stares in shock as Betty pulls off her sweater and tosses it to the ground.

"Betty, what are you doing?" Archie asks.

"I'm proving Jughead right. I'm giving you what you want."

She unbuttons her shirt and it joins her sweater on the floor, leaving her in a pretty white bra. She doesn't seem to care that she's in full view of the street. Not that anyone is going to walk by in this weather. She reaches for the button on her jeans.

"Betty, stop," Archie begs her.

"Why? Isn't this what you want?" Betty says, a little hysterical now. Her jeans and shoes are left discarded next to her other clothes.

"No, Betty," Archie says. God, what has he done to her? Is it self-centred to think he did this to her? He hates himself. He hates Jughead. He hates seeing her like this.

"Come on, Archie," Betty says, standing there in her matching bra and panties, her eyes red, her blonde hair dark and stringy, her whole body trembling. "You said you wanted me," she says. Her voice shakes and cracks. "You said you wanted me!" she almost yells this time, and then the dam breaks, and she's sobbing, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Betty," Archie says, his heart aching for her. Her pulls off his shirt and she lets him put it on her, lets him wrap her in his arms and she buries her face in his chest, shivering and crying.

"I do want you," he assures her. "But not like this. Let's get you inside, okay?"

He feels her nod against his chest, so he leaves one arm around her and leads her inside, up to his bedroom. He finds her a towel and some fresh clothes, donning a clean shirt himself. She looks ridiculous in his too-big clothes, but at least she's dry and warm.

"Hey," he says gently, once they're both dressed. "You want to stay here tonight? Dad won't mind."

Betty nods, and then wordlessly lies down on his bed.

"Arch?" she whispers, lying on her side.

"Yeah, Betts?"

"Hold me?"

"Of course."


They stay like that until Fred calls them for dinner. He's surprised to see Betty, especially wearing Archie's clothes, but he doesn't say anything, just takes it in his stride.

He also tactfully doesn't ask Betty what's wrong, or how she is, despite the fact that she's obviously been crying. She seems a little happier now, and even laughs at one of Fred's terrible dad jokes.

"Is it okay if Betty stays over tonight, Dad?" Archie asks, once they've finished their spaghetti.

"Of course, son," Fred nods. "It's been a long time since Betty stayed over."

"That's because mom banned me from staying at a boy's house when I turned twelve," Betty rolls her eyes. "But I do what I want now."

"Alright, well, you kids have a nice night," Fred says. "I'm just going to be down here watching TV if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mr Andrews," Betty says.

"Thanks, Dad," Archie agrees.

The two of them head back upstairs and sit on Archie's bed.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" he asks her. Betty shakes her head.

"I think I just want to go to sleep if that's okay," Betty says. "I know it's early, but I'm exhausted. All the crying," she gestures to her face, trying to laugh in spite of herself.

"Of course," Archie smiles. "You can have the bed, I'll get the trundle," he says.

"No, stay with me," Betty says. "We can share."

Archie nods. Betty lies down, and Archie lies down beside her. She pulls his arms around her and snuggles back against him. Archie breathes in her warm, delicate scent.

"Arch?" Betty says. "You're still my best friend, okay?"

"Same here, Betts. Same here."


It's nice to wake up with Betty in his arms. He wishes he could do this for the rest of his life. She wakes up soon after and rolls over to face him.

"How are you feeling?" Archie asks.

"I'm okay," she says. "I should probably get home. Mom is going to be pretty mad when she finds out where I spent the night."

Archie nods and Betty wriggles out of bed, still wearing his clothes.

"Your clothes are probably still wet," Archie says. They hadn't bothered to pick them up or hang them to dry. "You can keep that stuff," he says, referring to the clothes she's wearing.

"Thanks Arch," Betty gives a small smile. Archie gets out of bed and follows Betty downstairs and out the front door. Betty stops on the front step and turns to him.

"You don't need to walk me to my door," Betty says lightly. "I think I can manage it from here."

"Alright," Archie chuckles.

"Thanks, Archie," Betty says. "For last night."

"It was nothing," he says. "And I really am sorry. About Jughead. About… what I said. I'm sorry for everything."

Betty gives a small nod and turns to go. She stops dead when she sees Jughead walking away from her own front door. He spots them and pauses. Archie can only imagine what this must look like. Betty leaving his house early in the morning, wearing his clothes. Jughead probably thinks his worst fears have been confirmed.

Jughead's mouth forms a tight line, and he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives them as he turns to leave burns a hole into Archie's skin. It's a look of utter betrayal.

"Jug!" Betty calls after him, but he doesn't stop.

"Do you want me to go after him?" Archie asks her. Betty shakes her head.

"It's probably best if I let him cool off a little first," she says.

"He'll come around, once you explain," Archie assures her.

"I wish I could believe that," Betty sighs.


He doesn't though. Jughead ignores Archie's texts and when Archie tries to talk to him at school on Monday, he just says, "You couldn't just let me be happy, could you?" and it pierces Archie right through the heart.

He's not even with Betty. They haven't done anything wrong. And yet he's lost one of his best friends over it.

"He won't speak to me, Arch," Betty tells him pitifully. He's sitting on a desk in the Blue and Gold office, while Betty sits on a seat, her laptop next to him. "I've tried to explain, but he just ignores me. Except to hand me this letter."

Archie takes the paper from Betty's hand.

To whom it may concern

I am hereby handing in my official resignation from the Blue and Gold.

Jughead Jones.

"To whom it may concern?" Archie winces. "That's harsh."

After that, Jughead retreats from the group entirely, after all he's not speaking to Betty or Archie, and he was never exactly best friends with Veronica. He spends all his time with the serpents now, and they all stare daggers at Archie when they pass him in the halls.

"Look, guys, it was bound to happen eventually anyway," Veronica tells them, one morning in the common room. It's two weeks after Betty and Jughead's break up, and three weeks since Archie's own break up with Veronica. The two of them are pretty much good now, though it still does hurt a little bit if he thinks about it too hard.

"What are you talking about, V?" Betty asks.

"I'm just saying," Veronica shrugs. "Jughead was always eventually going to ditch you guys and become a full serpent. I know it sucks, B, but maybe it's better that it's sooner rather than later."

"If you say so," Betty says, unconvinced.

"Hey, it's his loss," Veronica says. "As the impartial third party, I say you guys did nothing wrong. Well. You probably should have told him you kissed Archie. But he could do you the courtesy of letting you explain."

Though Archie isn't sure Veronica is entirely impartial, he's in agreement with her. Jughead is acting like a petulant child.

"Do you think if I'd told him instead of Cheryl, he would have reacted differently?" Betty asks hopelessly.

"Yeah," Veronica says gently. "But the thing is, I think that would have eaten away at him until he pulled away from you, and it still would have ended. It just would have ended differently."

"What about you, Ronnie?" Archie asks. Veronica tilts her head questioningly. "Would it have eaten away at you?"

Veronica regards him interestedly. "You know, Archiekins?" she smiles sadly. "I think it would have."


As spring fades into summer, Archie spends most of his time with Betty, and it's almost like the old days. Before Veronica and Jughead, before the black hood, before Jason Blossom's murder. Before anything bad happened in Riverdale.

Except, sometimes when they're watching a movie he thinks about slipping his hand into hers. Or sometimes, when she smiles, he thinks he'd like to kiss her. But ignores these impulses, because he knows Betty isn't there yet.

And then it's summer, and school is over, and Archie has gotten into a music program over the summer in New York, and Betty and Veronica are going on a road trip, and Archie knows he won't see her for a couple of months. The knot in his stomach gets tighter and tighter with every day closer to her departure. One summer can change everything. He knows that better than anyone.

He helps the girls pack up the car, Alice's old station wagon. Alice had bought a new car when she kicked Hal out for good.

Veronica gives Archie a quick hug goodbye before sliding into the passenger seat, giving Archie and Betty some privacy to say goodbye.

"I guess I'll see you in a couple of months," Archie says, his throat constricted, desperate to say the things he's been feeling.

"Definitely," Betty says, smiling. "I'll text you every day, okay?" she promises. Archie grins.

"You don't have to," he says with a shake of his head.

"I want to," Betty says, and Archie grins wider. He almost says "I love you," but he stops himself just in time. Not because he doesn't. He always has. It just means something different now.

"Archie, I've been thinking," Betty says.

"About?"

"About what you said when you found out Jughead and I… well, you know," she shrugs. Archie grimaces, still feeling guilty at the memory.

"Betty, I am still so sorry about that," he says.

"I know," Betty laughs, and he breathes a sigh of relief that she's not mad at him.

"I just… I wanted you to know that I'm kind of glad you weren't my first," she shrugs. Archie isn't sure whether to be offended or not. "But if you wanted… if you were willing to wait… maybe you could be my last?"

Archie almost forgets to breathe.

"Arch?" Betty prompts, a little nervously.

"Yes," Archie says, his face breaking out into an enormous, probably goofy-looking, smile. "Yes, yes, of course yes," he says, and then Betty's smiling too, relief and joy filling her face. She leans up to kiss him, short and sweet.

"I'll miss you," she says, looking almost shy for a moment.

"I'll miss you too," Archie grins. "Have an amazing summer, Betty."

"You too, Arch."

Veronica winds the window down and sticks her head out.

"Can you two hurry up? I'm getting sick of pretending not to be eavesdropping," she says. Betty laughs and Archie looks sheepish.

Betty rounds the car and gets into the driver's seat, starting the car up. She waves out the window as she drives away, and Archie waves back, watching the car disappear.