FREAKS - jughead jones imagines

069. Rainy Daze

RAINY DAZE: in which the rainfall isn't the only thing accumulating between two clueless friends
PAIRING: Jughead Jones x Y/n L/n

. . .

It was finally Autumn, the best time of the year in Riverdale. It was time to kick off those flip flops and exchange them for fleece-lined boots. With the exit of Summer came apple festivals and pumpkin patches, and Riverdale's very own Maple Harvest Festival. The season gave the town buzz and excitement. But it also gave the town rain and storms.

That was the case today; color-filled leaves littered the ground, soaking wet from the quick thunderstorm that just passed by, leaving muddy puddles for cars to splash onto the sidewalks on their way through town. The fabric of Jughead's sneakers were soaked and squished noisily as he trudged up the long pathway that led to Y/n's front door. Before he made it to the door, Y/n swung the front door open while simultaneously opening her dark blue umbrella with her other hand. She lifted it above her head and sped down her front steps, meeting the boy halfway.

"You're soaking wet! Why didn't you bring an umbrella?" She sighed, feeling his more-than-damp jean jacket. He sighed an equally loud sigh, matching the faux exasperation in her tone. He shook the wet strands of hair that poked out from underneath his hat, splashing the secondhand rain onto Y/n's cheek.

"Y/n, I don't own an umbrella." They were at the end of her driveway as she was about to form her rebuttal, but before she could, he asked her absolute favorite question; "Do you wanna grab coffee?"

The answer was yes. The answer was always yes. He never had to ask where, nor did he have to ask what she was gonna get. It was always the same. They would go to the small coffee shop that had popped up next to The Register a little less than two months ago. She'd order the sweetest iced coffee on the menu. He'd order his plain, and hot. 

Her face lit up with a smile as she linked her arm with his, soaking up the warmth that radiated through his layers of clothing. They walked on the side of the busy street, Y/n on the side furthest from the oncoming traffic per Jughead's demand. The walk was quiet, not many words shared between the two. It was a comfortable silence, an enjoyable understanding that they could listen to the cars whoosh-ing by and the stones being kicked from under their feet, and they didn't have to fill the air with needless words. They could just exist within each other's company.

The umbrella shielded them from most of the rain water, but occasionally the wind would blow a few drops in their direction. So it was a relief when they were finally able to step out of the rain and into the slightly warmer shop. The smell of lemon cleaning wipes and bitter coffee hit right as the glass door was pushed open by Jughead, who held it for Y/n as she fell behind trying to close her umbrella.

The shop was relatively small. Miniature black tile lined the floor, creating a dark contrast to the smooth, light brown painted walls. It was a local store, so they never had more than 3 baristas working at a time, and Y/n was on a first name basis with most of them, seeing as the majority of them went to Riverdale High.

There were usually dozens of people coming and going, grabbing their to-go orders because nobody in Riverdale seemed to have time to order their own coffee anymore. However, that wasn't the case today. The coffee pots were over halfway full still, even though it was almost noon, and there wasn't a caffeine-craving soul in sight. Only a blonde barista, sitting on a stool behind the counter, doom scrolling on her phone when the 4th (and 5th) customers, Jughead and Y/n, walked in noisily.