bubblepuddles

[bubblepuddles]

I love your tintin fic! I was wondering if you ever planned on writing another one? If so I’d love to be tagged or if you need a proof reader or anything! Take care lovely, bye!

Hi, thanks for reading! And I'm really glad you liked it! To answer your question, yes, I do plan on writing more. But that's always the case with me, I always have a lot of pending works in my to do list because I'm usually really busy with university. But I'll be sure to tag you if it ever comes out! Thank you so much! ❤️

[bubblepuddles]

So I’ve received quite an overwhelming response to Tug-O-War, which makes me really, really happy. I swear, I giggle like a little girl everytime I get a notification. I don’t reply to all of them, but I’m sure to read each and every one. I am very grateful. Thank you all so, so much ❤️

I’m still not entirely sure if I can get a sequel out since I tend to just write whenever I get an inspiration (which hits me at the most random of times), but I do intend to write more, especially for Riverdale. I try not to pressure myself to get stuff out because I know it’ll just end up half-assed and because I’d like writing to be something that de-stresses me. I do have things in the works, though I’m also still not sure if I’ll ever let them see the light of day 😁

I’m also on vacation at the moment, have been for the past week, which means my inactivity is not due to the fact that I’ve completely run dry (thank goodness). I’ll be home after another week or so, so hopefully I’d be more focused then 😃

Anyways, I’m just writing this to tell everyone that I appreciate all the responses, whether it’s on ToW or on my other stuff. Thanks again and happy holidays to all! ✨

P.S.: I got a response on ToW saying how hilarious it would’ve been if reader ended up with Fangs. And I agree; I now slap my own forehead at the missed opportunity. 🤦🏻‍♀️ (I’ve been too blinded by my crush on Sweet Pea to even consider that at the moment I was writing it, tbh 😂)

[bubblepuddles]

Tug-O-War (Riverdale: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader)

Where Sweet Pea and Toni (lowkey) fight for your attention.  

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” You turned at the sound of your name, your H/C locks whipping the air as you looked for the source of the voice. 

“Jughead, what’s up?” You asked, a tinge of surprise in your voice. You and Jughead weren’t exactly close friends, but you were friends with Betty. You wondered what he needed from you. 

Soon, Jughead had caught up with you and ushered you to keep walking as he heard the bell ring. “I, uh, sort of have a situation." 

You glanced at him. "Mhmm?" 

"Betty’s birthday is coming up.” He said, and everything was clearer. “I’m not exactly a party nor a surprise guy, but—" 

"You want to do something special for her?” You continued, pausing in the middle of the hall to look into his eyes. He glances at you, then bashfully looks at the floor and rubs his neck. “Well, yeah, I mean, she’s done a lot for me and…”

You grinned to yourself. “Say no more, Jones. I’m in!" 

You always thought he and Betty made a cute pair, the two of them seemed like such a fresh, innocent love. You were glad the two stayed together even though Jughead had to transfer schools. He flashes you a wide grin. 

"Then can we meet in my trailer after school? Veronica already helped me plan and pick out some stuff, I just need help with the arts and crafts and things. I know you’re good at those." 

So that’s why he picked you. You were beginning to wonder why he didn’t turn to his best bud Archie or Betty’s bff, Veronica. Though it’s not that you mind. You actually did enjoy a bit of arts and crafts. 

"Sure,” You confirmed, continuing to walk as the second bell just rang, before abruptly stopping and slapping your forehead. “Oh, shhh. I forgot! I have cheer practice today. Would it be okay if I swing by a little late?" 

Jughead throws his hands mid-air. "It’s alright with me if it’s alright with you." 

"Alright, catch you later!” You said before beginning to jog your way to the classroom, in an effort to overtake your teacher who just passed you in the hall.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna go get a milkshake at Pop’s?“ Betty asked, with her usual sweet smile. Practice had just finished and you were walking out the school with the B&V. You instantly remembered your appointment with Jughead. 

"Oh, I’d love to, but uh, my mom told me to come straight home today. She needs my help with some… work stuff,” You choked out. “A lot of, uh, work stuff.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow at your poor excuse. You clear your throat.

“Oh, alright, no big deal. Maybe next time..?” Betty replied, seeming to buy your excuse. You gave her a small, relieved smile but you could tell by the look on her face that she was about to offer you some help.Thinking quickly, you decided to pretend to be surprised by the time. 

“Shoot, I can’t believe it’s this late! And of course, next time, definitely! I’ll catch you later!” You quickly added, waving goodbye and jogging away before Betty could asked you any more questions. 

Soon enough, you reached Jughead’s trailer. You noticed several bikes up front and you wonder whether he had invited some of his other friends to help. Serpents, to be exact. Not that that was a problem with you, as you were actually one of the more open-minded residents in Riverdale that knew that not all serpents were bad. Though you did think of what their reactions would be if they saw a Northsider come and help along. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, faintly hearing voices coming from the inside. 

The inside of the trailer was a mess. Colored paper, streamers, balloons and the like were spread out all over the living area as Jughead tries to create something presentable. 

“This just looks… wrong.” He said, wrinkling his nose as he holds up what was supposed to be a origami flower. Veronica had left templates and instructions on how to make them but he couldn’t seem to get them right. 

“How about this one?” Toni said, holding up her own creation. Thankfully, he wasn’t there to suffer alone. Toni Topaz and Sweet Pea, two of the younger serpents, were hanging around Jughead’s trailer to pass time. Though unsurprisingly, Toni was the only one that readily offered to help Jughead with Betty’s birthday surprise. After all, it was pretty hard to imagine the tall, muscular, and hot-headed Sweet Pea sitting obediently while making paper flowers. 

Jughead takes the origami flower on Toni’s palm and examines it. 

“This… is great, actually,” He mumbles, carefully placing the dainty flower in an empty shoebox (so he wouldn’t lose it), before cutting out more square pieces of paper to make a new flower. “One down and heaps more to go…” 

Toni looks over at Sweet Pea, who’s busy fiddling with his phone. 

“Hey, Sweet Pea, why don’t you make yourself useful and cut out squares for us, huh?” She says, handing the tall boy a sheet of colored paper and some scissors. Sweet Pea doesn’t bother to look up from his phone as he mumbles an excuse. 

“I, uh, I’m left handed..?” He says, almost sounding like a question, tilting his phone to the side to control his mobile racecar. 

Toni wrinkles her nose, straight up thinking that that was a lie, though not recalling any instances when she caught Sweet Pea writing. She was sure he used his right fist to punch, though. 

“…and?" 

"Lefties need special scissors.” He said as-a-matter-of-factly, finally putting his phone down and making eye contact. Toni raised her eyebrow and peeked over to see that Sweet Pea’s red racecar had suffered an unfortunate crash. 

“…right,” She said, leering her eyes but retrieving her outstretched hand. “So how about you try to make flowers instead?" 

Sweet Pea was just about to cough out another excuse when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He quickly stood up. 

"Well, that must be Fogarty. We’re hitting the Wyrm. Sorry I couldn’t stay for your arts and crafts session, Jones.” He said, flashing the two serpents a cheeky grin before heading straight to the door before someone in the room stopped him. “Took you damn long enough—" 

But it wasn’t Fangs at the door. Nor was it a man. In front of Sweet Pea stood a petite girl, now looking up at the person who swung the door open. She had her hair in a high ponytail, having just come out of cheer practice, therefore also wearing her white, yellow-sleeved top and her tiny shorts that’s main purpose was to allow movement, though if you’re a teen-aged boy, you would only think about how it showcased the girl’s smooth legs wonderfully. Sweet Pea unconsciously raises his eyebrows. 

You couldn’t help but to stare back at the boy towering in front of you. He was huge, you literally had to move your neck to make eye contact. You noticed the serpent tattoo on his neck. Guess you were right about Jughead bringing some friends. 

"Um…" 

"Y/N!” Suddenly, Jughead appeared, putting a hand on the taller boy’s shoulder. 

“This is Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea, Y/N. I, uh, I hope you don’t mind me having a couple of friends over. This one looks scary but I swear none of them bite.” Jughead said, grinning.

You couldn’t help but smile as well, both because of Jughead’s rare, contagious grin and because of the larger teen’s unusual name that didn’t seem to match his appearance. “Nice to meet you." 

The taller boy barely makes out a small smile before breaking eye contact, though his eyes don’t leave you, either. You become a little nervous, feeling even smaller under his gaze. Then Jughead invites you inside… but Sweet Pea still stood in the way. You gulped.

"And, uh, no, I don’t mind. Unless your friends would rather me leave..?” You said, looking back at Sweet Pea, who had been unusually quiet (though you didn’t know that), wondering what he was thinking. You did recall that Southsiders had this complex over Northsiders. Maybe he didn’t like you right off the bat? 

“What, Sweet Pea, cat got your tongue? Why don’t you move over so Y/N could enter? You’re gonna scare her off, you know.” Toni teased. And with that, Sweet Pea blinked, as if recovering from a daze. He awkwardly mutters what sounded like an apology before finally stepping aside. 

“Thank you…” You mumbled, before quickly making your way to the mini gathering on the floor. 

“I brought fries, by the way. Sorry I’m late.” You added, carefully placing the white paper bag with the logo ‘Pop’s’ on an empty space on the floor.

“Toni, this is Y/N, Y/N, Toni.” Jughead said once you were all sitting down on the floor. “And thank you, for the fries. You really didn’t have to." 

"Oh, it was along the way, anyway.” You said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Toni.”

“I like you already.” Toni says, after taking a bite out of her fry. “Cute outfit, by the way." 

You suddenly felt more conscious of your cheer clothes, especially since you felt Sweet Pea eye you up not too long ago. Guess you couldn’t blame them, though, you haven’t really heard of a cheer team coming from Southside High.

"Thanks. Though really, these are just glorified gym clothes.” You joked, causing Toni to giggle and playfully tap your shoulder. 

“She’s funny.” Toni said, talking to Jughead. “Maybe you should let us meet some more of your friends, Juggy. Especially if they’re as cute as her." 

You blushed instantly and was about to mumble a “thank you” when you were interrupted by a voice the three of you seemingly forgot about. 

"Topaz." 

The three of you looked back at Sweet Pea, who was still standing by the door with a hand on the knob. You wondered whether he was annoyed or if that was just his default face. 

"Can we talk for a sec?" 

Toni raised an eyebrow but followed the tall boy outside the trailer anyway. You briefly wondered if they were a couple, but decided not to raise your question to Jughead, who seemed to be focused on crafting his flower. 

"So, is there anything left for me to do?" 

You had successfully made three little origami flowers when the trailer door opened. Toni and Sweet Pea entered and you noticed that the former looked a bit annoyed. Jughead seemed to notice this, too. 

"What is this, a lover’s quarrel?” He joked. 

“Oh please.” Toni said, rolling her eyes and assuming her earlier position beside you. 

“Thought you knew I preferred girls, Jones?” Sweet Pea said right back, sitting down on the empty space on your other side before helping himself with some of the fries you brought over. You could tell that Toni rolled her eyes again. She scooted closer to you. 

“Is this how you do it?“ She asked, holding her own unfinished flower against yours. 

"Oh, uh, yeah,” You replied, before pointing at the corner of the would-be flower. “Then you fold over that part." 

"Thought you already knew how to make that?” Sweet Pea said over to Toni, who stuck her tongue out at the boy in response. Sweet Pea moves closer to you before bending his torso over your lap, reaching for the scissors on your other side. “Excuse me…" 

You stayed incredibly still, so as to not accidentally touch him. You still couldn’t gauge the personality of the guy, and he was pretty intimidating even without considering his height. You observed his form as he bent over you. He had really broad shoulders with large, defined muscles that caused the fabric of his flannel to cling onto his arms tightly. He smelled of smoke and hints of boyish cologne. He was basically the human version of testosterone. He flashed you a smile after managing to retrieve the scissors when he noticed that you were looking at him, catching you off guard. You quickly looked away. 

"Thought lefties needed ‘special scissors’, Pea?” Toni taunted after watching the scene in front of her. 

“Who said I was a leftie?” The boy replied nonchalantly, not looking up from his own business. Toni shot Sweet Pea a sharp glare and was about to call him out when door suddenly barged open (déjà vu). 

“Fogarty! Finally! Whisk your boyfriend away, would you?” Toni said, sighing in relief. 

“Sweet Pea. Let’s bounce.”

“Busy.” Sweet Pea replied instantly, finishing cutting up a square. He inches closer to you. “How do you do this?" 

You look straight at Jughead, who just raises his hands as if to say, 'I have no idea what’s going on right now’. You look at Toni, who’s looking at Fogarty, pressuring the boy to take Sweet Pea away. Finally, you look back at Sweet Pea, who was looking straight into your eyes. And instantly, you remembered just how innocent a snake’s eyes could look. 

Fangs raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You sent me an S.O.–" 

"Fogarty, how about you make yourself useful and cut us up some squares, huh? It’s still too early to go to the Wyrm, anyway.” Sweet Pea interrupted, turning his head around to look at the mentioned boy. You couldn’t see the look Sweet Pea was giving him, because this meant he had his back turned to you, but it was a look that one could only accurately describe as threatening. Fangs threw his hands in the air in instant defeat and made his way to sit beside Jughead, who did the honors of handing him some paper and scissors. “This is Y/N, by the way. Y/N, Fangs." 

That was the third introduction today. And you thought you’d be spending the rest of the afternoon quietly making crafts with Jughead. You gave Fangs a small smile, before motioning to the takeout container sitting in the middle of your little circle. "Help yourself." 

Fangs grinned, picking up a fry and taking you up on your offer. "Don’t mind if I do."��

Sweet Pea cleared his throat. You glance at him. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um, can I have a look…?" 

He holds up a roughly-cut square piece of powder blue colored paper. His cutting job sort of reflects his personality, you thought. 

"So you fold over this part…" 

"Mhmm…” He bends over a bit and holds his square closer to your own. You briefly felt the cold metal of his ring when his fingers accidentally bumped your own while he tries to hold his paper up properly on its right side. “This one?" 

"Um, yes. Then you do this…” You gulped, demonstrating the steps on your own flower. Your fingers were slightly trembling at this point, a product of his mere existence. You were about to turn over your flower but your unsteady hands accidentally dropped it on his lap, which, only now, you noticed was very close to yours. You inwardly cursed yourself. 

“S-sorry…” You quickly tried to retrieve the traitor, making absolutely sure to only make contact with the paper, but his hand met yours and the two of you ended holding it up together. You didn’t notice, but the other two boys were now watching the show in front of them with their eyebrows raised. There was a short wave of silence before it was broken by a feminine voice. 

“Oh, look, Pea. I found the instructions! Guess you don’t have to bother Y/N anymore.” Toni said, a wide smile on her face as she waved the piece of paper in the air. 

Embarrassed, you quickly looked down on your lap, at the flower Sweet Pea had let go of and you managed to retrieve. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes at Toni before snatching the sheet of paper which instantly became a crumpled ball in his fist. By then, Jughead and Fangs, though the latter had just arrived, fully understood what was going on. A tug-o-war was happening in front of their eyes, with you as the prized flag. 

I made this in one night please be kind

[bubblepuddles]

Oops

Hello, it’s been a while! And yes, here comes my excuse.

University. Fuckin’ university. Cliché, I know, I’m sorry, but that’s really what it is. My first wave of exams happened around mid-last month, and I haven’t enough time to recover before the next wave (which was this week, lol) did so I’m still kind of adjusting. Coming back from vacation makes me forget how real all the stress feels even though I was left with the idea of it. I’m sorry. I’ve been down and stressed and all else that I’ve forgotten to take time and do things that I enjoy, writing included. I hope you can forgive me.

I’m also sorry to say that I’m not here for an update, nor am I here to promise any updates very soon. I have 5 more major exams this coming week and then another one on the next so I don’t think I can squeeze a lot of recreation for at least another week. Again, I apologize. 🙇🏻‍♀️

I can, however, promise to complete my ongoing series, Blue Margarita, and to try and make another chapter of Corruption. I have my eyes set on another fanfic for Kingsman as well, but honestly, watching the second movie changes everything. I swear. I have no words for it* and all I can say is that it was amazing, if you haven’t watched it, go, do it. It’s just���beautiful.

Anyway, I’m just passing by and leaving this here so that people who follow my stories won’t be confused.

Hope to be back soon,

Bubbles

*I actually do have a lot of words for it, but I don’t want to spoil anyone, lol

[bubblepuddles]

Masterlist

Bucky x Reader

Blue Margarita (3/? chapters)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[bubblepuddles]

Blue Margarita (Bucky Barnes x Reader) part 3/?

                     ~ In memory of the first drink that made me puke ~

                               Was it the drink? Maybe it was the salt.

Summary (not really): What do regular college students do on a Friday night? Party, of course. College AU. Assumes certain aspects of the reader. Mentions of alcohol. Drink responsibly!

Masterlist over here!

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Mhmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m still not telling you my name.”

He looked at you, pained, like a puppy left outside in the rain.

“It’s interesting like this, right?”

“Oh, come on…”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing you.”

“I think ‘torturing’ is a better word.”

You looked at him dead in the eye. He flinched, and you could already hear another apology before he had even opened his mouth. You bring a finger to his lips, and gave him a gentle smile. “Truce?”

He gave a sigh of relief. “Truce.”

You smiled at him, and he threw a wide one back. You had to fight back the urge to stare at him for too long. Then he breaks the silence.

“Let me make it up to you, though. I’ll get you a drink.”

He had left before you could protest; you weren’t really sure if you could handle any more alcohol. You could still stand straight, but it required great effort and concentration so you sat on a lawn chair to catch a break. The backyard area was almost deserted now, only a few people left playing in the pool. You wondered what time it was.

“’Ere you go, doll.”

You faced him, your eyebrows inquisitive. “Doll?”

“Well, I gotta call you something, right?” He says casually, sitting beside you and taking a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, but do people still actually use that?” You replied, taking the bottle he offered you. He clinks his bottle with yours, then takes another sip. Then he looks into your eyes.

“Babe.”

You felt yourself jump a little, his voice sounded so sultry, sexy, catching you off-guard. Heat rushed to your already warm, intoxicated cheeks.

He noticed your reaction, having not taken his eyes off of you. You watch his eyes flick to your lips before looking into your own orbs once more. Then he came closer, closer, slowly…

*BLEAGHAGH*

A sound interrupted you two and you quickly turned your head towards the direction it came from, although all that was in your head was the thought of his face just inches away from yours. You could feel yourself turn impossibly redder.

“I, uh, I need to use the bathroom?!” You declared so abruptly it came out unsure. You stood up and was out of the area in a flash, faintly hearing an “okay?” as you brisk-walked away.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks were flushed, hair unkempt, your exposed skin ablaze from the alcohol. You looked like a hot mess.

“Jesus, did he attempt to kiss this?” You criticized, running a hand on your hair to try and tame the fly-aways down. You freshened up a bit, afterwards, putting some powder on and a bit of tinted lip balm. Surprisingly, your makeup had stayed on quite well even after hours of it on your face. But then again, your vision could have just been compromised by the alcohol. You shrugged and smoothed out your dress before walking out of the bathroom.

Walking, however, might have been an understatement. The alcohol in your system had taken full effect, and you were practically staggering your way around to try and get back to the pool area. You almost didn’t feel the hand that had grabbed your arm because your body felt so numb. But you felt a resistance, something that stopped you from proceeding.

“Someone puked in the pool and it smells horrible. Trust me, you don’t want to go back there,” The familiar voice said with a laugh, before taking a good look at you. He examined your face, then his eyebrows knit together with worry. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You giggled, as if it was involuntary, then grinned at him widely. His worry was replaced with confusion before his expression finally relaxed, understanding what had happened to you even without words. He then responded with a grin of his own.

“You, uh, wanna sit down?” He proposed, amused at the state you were in. You violently shook your head in response before stumbling your way across the group of people dancing around a DJ. He quickly follows your lead and you weren’t aware of it, but he had his arms wide open to catch you just in case you fell. He positioned himself right in front of you once you had finally stopped. You led him in the middle of a wild crowd.

“How about we slow down a little next time?” He says, trying to figure out whether you were listening… or whether you could even understand what he was saying.

“Don’t wanna lose you in this… mob.” He added, and as if on cue, was bumped by a random person that was caught up in the music. He showed the guy an annoyed face, who then shuffled away while apologizing. He sighed.

“You sure you wanna be here..?” He asked, but when he turned to look at you, you were already dancing, wildly flailing your arms… before putting them over the neck of a stranger. He was beside you in a flash, quickly grabbing your arm, pulling you close to him and traveling to the other side of the dancefloor, on the edge where there were less people. You pouted at him even though you were pressed against his chest. He restored distance once there was enough space.

“Wha, am I the bad guy now?” He exasperated, running his hand through his hair. You stole his beer when he wasn’t looking, and took a swig. He quickly stole it back when he noticed, causing some of it to spill on the side of your mouth. He exhaled loudly and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “Jesus, you’re a handful. That’s enough drinking for you.”

Another pout. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “How about we just dance, hm? That’s fun, right?”

Your eyes practically lit up, and you were about to venture back deeper into the crowd but he caught you just in the nick of time.

“Hey, hey, let’s just dance over here, okay?” He says, but he knew you weren’t convinced.

“I need a partner.” You whined, your sober self clearly heading home first. He looks at you as if he was contemplating something. Then he finishes the last of his beer with a loud gulp before setting it down on a counter.

“Sweetheart, that’s what I’m here for.”

Those words put you in cloud 9 at the time, your drunk self loved to dance with an equally enthusiastic partner, apparently. Little did you know that your partner hated dancing, hated wild crowds, hated crashing bodies and very loud music. But he stayed there with you the whole time, dancing as passionately as you did, the both of you matching your moves with the music that was playing. There were times when it was loud and wild, with jumping and arms flailing… but there were also times when it was close, sensual, and your hands were all over him. He let you, his own not straying from your waist as he kept an eye on you to make sure you didn’t cling on anyone else. Maybe he was just as drunk as you at the time. Maybe, because you weren’t sure, your memory of the night a blur, especially after dancing where it gradually became even more hazy, unsure, and eventually, in fragments.

A/N: Hello! Sorry this took so long. Speaking of long, I noticed that I’ve dragged this party on for so long. Sorry, I’ll try to finally let it come to a close in the next chapter, lol. Hope you enjoyed this one!

Previous chapter | Next chapter

[bubblepuddles]

Corruption (Tintin x Older!Female!Reader)

READ ME!!! (a little background to understand the story better)

I personally imagine Tintin to be around 17 years old here while reader is around 22, but feel free to adjust this to your own comfort. It’s just that I implied here in the story that Tintin is underage, while the reader isn’t. Tintin also has a bit of a complex about their age gap as he sometimes feels like the reader doesn’t see him as a man and always treats him like he’s so much younger. They work professionally, as a boss and an assistant should, but they look out for each other like lovers and there can be undeniable sexual tension. Tintin and reader had also kissed once before (tenderly, with him initiating, probably when he took care of a sick reader one time) and they have a mutual love for each other though it’s never before spoken of or directly addressed. They aren’t interested in anybody else but they don’t feel bound to each other as if they didn’t have a choice. Maybe they’re just waiting for the right time to talk about their relationship? :)

I’m planning to make at least one more chapter of this, probably a lemon if I’m successful. Though this can also work as a stand-alone story if that isn’t your thing. There won’t be any sex in this chapter, but it does get a little hot, so avert your eyes if you’re a young’un or proceed with caution.

Clink!

The bells daintily tied on the handlebar of the pub’s glass door chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer. There weren’t much people inside, so only a few curious heads had turned to look your way as you walked toward a barstool. It had been a long day, and you definitely needed to loosen up a little. You gently rubbed your shoulders while you picked a random stool to prop yourself up.

The barista noticed you right away, and he made his way towards you with a menu on one hand and a wet mug and a towel on the other. He flashed you a smile, the sideways kind, the ones that were almost borderline creepy but… not really. The type a random guy would give you as you walked across the street, you suppose. He handed you the menu.

“Evening.”

“Thank you.” You politely replied nonetheless, sliding the menu closer to you so you could read it properly.

“I’ll have a margarita, please.” Because what better way to start off the night than a tequila mix?

You took your phone out of your purse after feeling a familiar buzz through your bag’s material. You pressed the button to light up the screen, which then read: “ARTICLE SUBMISSION”

You sighed, taking the glass that was neatly placed in front of you by the barista and started to sip through the little straw. You looked off into the distance while you let your mind wander.

Hours had already passed and you were still on the same stool, only now there were a number of empty glasses, neatly arranged from tallest to shortest, in front of you. You had gotten a little carried away, a bit more than tipsy, when you remembered that you drove yourself to the pub. Removing the hand that was propping your chin up, your hands dug into your purse for payment. Too concentrated on finding your wallet, you barely heard the footsteps approaching you from behind causing an instinctive flinch when a deep voice suddenly erupted out of nowhere.

“Why so lonely?” The voice said, accompanied by a hand on your shoulder. You turned to the stranger’s direction. It was a man, none that you knew (you were sure of that despite the alcohol), maybe in his thirties with stubble on his chin. He smelled of cigarettes. You tried to wiggle his hand off your shoulder.

“I needed a little peace and quiet.” You said, flatly, finally successful in fishing your wallet out. You quickly flipped through your bills to find the enough amount.

“Let me help you relax,” The man, who had now invited himself on the seat in front of you, said. He put a large bill on the counter and slid it towards the barista. “I’ll take care of the lady’s drinks, give me a shot glass while you fix her another mojito.”

The barista did as he was told, like a loyal dog to its master, taking the bill from the counter and putting a shot glass in its place. You sat there, dumbfounded. Not sure what to do next, you awkwardly cleared your throat.

“I, uh, I appreciate all this, but it’s time for me to leave,” You said, dangling your leg off the stool while a bill was still crumpled in your hand. “Let me pay you back.”

The man feigned confusion, then gave you a sideways smile.

“Nah, sweetheart, my treat. Pay me back by having a drink with me, yeah?” He said, as if he owed you anything, taking a flask out of his coat and pouring its contents into the shot glass in front of you. But you weren’t a fool and you knew where this was going. You stood up, slammed the crumpled bill on the counter before turning to leave and answering firmly, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

You had already passed him when you felt a strong grip on your arm. “Hey, now, that’s not the proper way to thank a gentleman who just bought you your drinks, eh?”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, take the bill on the counter.” You snapped, now thoroughly annoyed. You tried to free your arm from his grip.

“You’re not leaving until this shot glass is empty,” He said, a hint of darkness in his voice. “I just poured you an expensive drink, don’t waste it like that, love. It’s amazing, girls like expensive things, yeah?”

He pushed the shot glass on your hand and his other left your arm when you took it. Drunk or not, you still weren’t stupid enough to take a shot a stranger poured for you, so you had decided to just let it dribble from the side of your mouth instead just so that he’d leave you alone. But your lips didn’t even manage to touch the rim of the glass because it was suddenly snatched from your hand.

Silence, then followed by a gulp.

“The glass is empty, this means she can leave, yes?”

Everything happened so quickly, and the next thing you knew for sure was that you were being dragged by the wrist out of the pub, across the street, then to the carpark. And that even though your hero’s back was turned to you, you knew exactly who he was.

“W-wait, Tintin!” You called out to him, barely able to keep up with his pace.

“You parked your car near the tree, correct? I saw it on my way here.” He answered, though ignoring your calls.

“S-slow down, please.” You begged, yet he kept his speed. You almost tripped over your own feet twice. It also didn’t help that you were drunk and that your world was spinning slightly.

“You’re hurting my wrist.” You tried once more and you swore you felt his hand loosen by a fraction but still he didn’t let you go. You were starting to get a little annoyed. He didn’t need to take care of you. You’re a grown woman, goddamit, if anyone, he’s the one that needs taking care of!

“What were you doing there, anyway? Why aren’t you home? And how did you even get in?” You questioned, subtly trying to get your message across, that you’re worried about him, why isn’t he home, and that you totally could have handled yourself back there.

The boy suddenly came to a halt and you, unaware, almost touched his shoulder with your nose. “Why wasn’t I home?” He said, finally addressing your questions. His tone was strong, his brow was furrowed and his free hand rubbed his temples in annoyance. “I’m not the one here with a missed deadline!”

It surprised you, he’s never used that tone of voice with you. But you yanked your wrist away from his hand, ready to fight back. “That is none of your business, Tintin.”

He calmly locked eyes with you.

“As your assistant, it’s also as much my responsibility as it is yours.”

You didn’t have an answer to that, because he was right, and because it was you who begged him to be your assistant. You were wrong to have called him out like that when he’s just doing his job and possibly, looking out for you. But you were drunk, stressed, and petty so you shot his retreating figure a sharp glare even though your feet obediently followed him to your car.

“Hanging around a bar past midnight… what were you thinking?” He scolded, standing in front of the driver’s door while you ignore his comment and rummaged for your keys. You could feel his eyes on you.

“I’ll drive you.” He said with an outstretched palm. You look up at him, at his palm, then back at him.

“Um, you don’t have a license.” You said, pushing his hand away then past him, trying to insert the key in the keyhole. But your world was spinning, and that damn hole wouldn’t stay still. After a few unsuccessful tries, you felt a warm hand steady your own and open the lock. You could feel Tintin’s breath on your ear.

“You’re intoxicated.” He said, close, and just enough for you to hear. He took the keys from you, placed a hand on your lower back and led you to the passenger’s seat. He opened the door for you and you obediently went inside without another word. He shut the door and you watch him make his way back to the driver’s seat from the windshield. He looked tired and his usual kempt collared shirt was now wrinkly and untucked. You wonder whether he had been searching all over for you. He reached over and fastened your seatbelt for you once he was seated, and your alcohol-flushed face reddened even more at the distance he didn’t think twice about closing. You couldn’t help but take in his scent, the smell of his faint cologne binding you in a spell. Entranced, you failed to notice that you’ve already ran a hand through his now messy hair, stopping just at the back of his neck. The boy was staring at you at this point with an unreadable expression, your seatbelt long done, one of his arms across you while the other was at the back of your seat. You were effectively trapped by him though you had no plans of running away. You brought his neck closer to you and had a taste of his lips.

He didn’t jerk back, but you could feel him stiffen in surprise through your closed eyes. The ginger boy loosened up slowly, gripping the back of your seat as he kissed you back. He was so gentle, maybe a little unsure, but you were hungry, needy. You gradually started to ravish his lips mercilessly while you pushed your body against his. Your other hand was now gripping the material on his shoulder, encouraging his body to close the remaining gap between the two of you. Leading the way, you bit his lower lip lightly and dared to put your tongue in his mouth when they opened slightly in surprise. He let out a delicious moan of pleasure in response to your wet tongue hungrily exploring his mouth, effectively sending a wave of electricity all over your body. Encouraged, you probed him more, determined to make his tongue dance with your own. Not long after, you got what you wanted and you started to feel hot, letting out a small moan of your own. But Tintin only let it continue for a little longer before the ginger-haired boy ultimately broke off the kiss, letting a small trail of saliva be the only connection left of the two of you.

You looked up at him, puppy-dog eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you. His freckled cheeks were flushed, redder than you had ever seen them, and his hands were both in tight grips. Tintin met your eyes for what only seemed like a fraction of a second before he cleared his throat and straightened himself up in what you guessed was an attempt to regain his composure. You still yearned for his lips but you saw something when your eyes dared to venture downwards that made your own curl into a sly smile. He must’ve been well-aware of it too, as he fidgeted awkwardly in an attempt to make the obvious bulge in his pants less noticeable before finally turning the engine on and starting to drive away. Biting your lip, you thought of how you would’ve loved to corrupt him a little bit more. But you pushed the devil inside of you away, because you decided that his flushed face and the luxury of staring at the tent formed in his pants the whole ride home was already a great reward for your hard work.

A/N: I personally think there aren’t enough Tintin x Reader fanfics out there but maybe I’m the only one crushing on him and am just weird like that lol. I will link the next chapter here if I’m successful at my attempt. Feel free to share your favorite Tintin x Reader fanfics here, too (although I may have already read them lol), because I’m always on the search. If you’re following me for Blue Margarita, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I just had to get this out. I’ll be working on the next chapter soon. :)  Thank you for reading!

P.S.: I obviously suck at writing British English, I’m sorry, I’ve used American English all my life. Tintin might also be very OOC, I never read the comics and only saw the movie. I’m an uncultured swine, I know.

[bubblepuddles]

Blue Margarita (Bucky Barnes x Reader) part 2/?

                      ~ In memory of the first drink that made me puke ~

                                Was it the drink? Maybe it was the salt.

Summary (not really): What do regular college students do on a Friday night? Party, of course. College AU. Assumes certain aspects of the reader. Mentions of alcohol. Drink responsibly!

Part one is over here!

The two of you stood up, cups still in hand. It wasn't noticeable when you two were sitting, but now that you were standing side by side, the height difference became obvious. You (again!) literally had to move your neck just to make eye contact with him.

‘Jesus, had boys always been this tall?’ You thought to yourself.

He lead the way, his hand resting so lightly on your lower back that you wonder whether it was actually there. You felt your heart threaten to pound out of your chest. ‘Oh god, oh god. I literally just agreed to go home with a total stranger. I don’t even know his name yet! Jesus, I thought I was better than this??’

You quickly glanced at the man beside you. His face was still lightly flushed, and his hand was still resting tentatively on your back, as if he was waiting for you to reprimand him. He noticed you looking at him so he leaned in to your ear, “Is this, uh, okay?”

You assumed he was talking about his hand. You gave him a small nod and a smile, to which he responded with a grin of his own. Jesus, he’s even more handsome when he smiles.

All thoughts of maybe getting murdered in a dark alley by a stranger had been washed away by the ocean that were his eyes. Your instincts tell you that he’s a good person, and your instincts haven’t failed you yet. You didn’t think you had a bad sense of judgement either, and well, he seemed to have a lot of friends, right? He shouldn’t be too bad? You smiled to yourself, thoroughly convinced that you found a good catch. You also took a mental note to tell Nat that she was right: you, Y/N L/N, indeed went home with a stranger from the frat party and that you were weirdly proud about it. Then suddenly, a splash. Wait, what?

You looked around and noticed that he had lead you to the poolside. Oh.

“Ever played beer pong before?” He asked, barely giving you time to recover from your embarrassment, and tilted his head towards the now empty pool table. You’ve never, but it didn’t seem like it mattered as he was heading towards it, anyway. He grabbed new cups from the side and filled them with more of the blue liquid, neatly arranging them on the table. Oh, what the heck. You needed something to wash your dirty thoughts away, anyway. You gulped down the rest of the drink left in your cup and stood at the opposite side of the table.

“I’ve never… but it’s basically just shoot the ball into the cups, right?” You mumbled, taking a ping pong ball. “When it goes in, you drink, and the first one to clear the enemy’s side wins?”

You did a test shot. It went in, which surprised you. Not that you particularly had a bad aim, it just wasn’t that good, either. You grinned at the man in front of you.

“Nice.” He said, grinning back before taking the cup and gulping the liquid. He wiped a droplet from the side of his mouth before pointing at you. “But you’re going down.”

You continued to surprise yourself more throughout the game. You actually managed to keep up with him, him only being a cup ahead of you. The score had reached 7-8, and you feel the alcohol in your system taking effect. You were getting slightly dizzy but you could feel your cheeks become warmer more than anything. What surprised you more than anything, however, was the fact that you managed to down 8 cups of blue margarita without outright puking. The taste must have grown into you somehow.

You must’ve been staring off into space for a little too long because a voice suddenly interrupted your thoughts. “You okay?”

You looked up at him and he was still as handsome as you thought he was earlier, if not more. His cheeks were lightly tinted at this point and his hair was now a little bit more on the messy side. There was a hint of concern in his eyes. “Need to take a break?”

Oh, no. You weren’t a quitter. “You wish.” You said, concentrating… and successfully landing the ball in a cup. Your score was now even.

Your response made him chuckle. “How about we make this more interesting?” He proposed, a playful look in his eyes. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “We answer a question for every cup we have to drink.”

You looked straight into his eyes. “So, there’s at most 2 questions we can answer… meaning, I’ll have to ask the most scandalous ones I can think of.” You smirked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He laughed. “You just gave me an idea.”

You were confused, but then you realized, it was his turn to shoot. Shoot.

You prayed, prayed to the heavens it wouldn’t go in. You stared at the ball so hard you could’ve bore a hole through it. It bounced off a cup’s rim.

“Shit.” He laughed.

“My turn.” You said, wasting no time. Your ball also bounced off a rim… but it went straight into another cup. He laughed again.

“Damn it.”

You waited for him to finish his drink before asking him a question.

“I hate to waste this turn, but my curiosity’s getting the best of me…” You said, looking down, not noticing him cocking an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

It was quiet for a while, so you looked up and he blinked at you. He chuckled. “Do you want me to? I thought it was interesting like this. I mean, I’m sure you’re name’s just as beautiful as you… but it’s not like you asked for mine, either, so I just went with the flow.”

You blushed a little, realizing he just complimented you. “It’s different, though. Everybody knows you.”

“Do you know me?”

“No, but I’m sure I could literally approach anyone in this party and ask them and they’ll tell me, because they all know. You seem to know a lot of people.”

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I doubt that, sweetheart, but I’ll let you have your way. Now, would you like me to ask your name?”

You gave him a look. Why did he say it like that? Did he not want to know? Was he planning to forget about you and this whole encounter after the party so he doesn’t even bother to ask for your name? You opened your mouth to say something but he interrupted your thoughts.

“Alright, hey, I know that look. That’s a look girls give when they’re about to get angry at you. Sorry, sweetheart. Will you tell me your name, please?” He looked into your eyes, those blues you liked. They seemed genuine, and a little apologetic. But…

“Nope.” You said, folding your arms.

“Wha—”

“Beat me, and I’ll think about it.”

His face suddenly went serious, and you can see his gaze fixate on a cup. He slowly lifted his arm and took a shot. “I’m sorry.”

You glanced at him, then drank the contents of the cup. “Um, that wasn’t a question.”

“I know, but I’m sorry. It was mean. I made it seem like I didn’t want to know. I do, just, ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’m an asshole when drunk.”

He looked sad, but you smiled a little. “It’s alright, it’s just a name, anyway.”

‘And after this party, we’re just two people who had a brief encounter...’

You took another shot, not waiting for him to properly pose you a question. It went in, and you looked at him apologetically, even though you weren’t sorry. You won. “Oops. Guess I won’t be telling you.”

He gave you a pained expression. But hey, he started it. Guess you’re petty when drunk.

“I won’t ask for your name, either, just so it’s fair.” You see him chugging down the contents of the cup. You took your last one as well, so it won’t go to waste. You turned to him after putting your cup down.

“So, which do you prefer? Asshole or ponytail?”

He gave you a look. Yep, you’re definitely petty when drunk.

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for waiting for this chapter. I hope you like it, it actually didn’t turn out as I had originally planned, but I just finished reading Why We Broke Up (I’m super late, I know) and some asshole rubbed off on my writing, I guess. It was still pretty fun to write, though, because boy am I petty. This one’s also shorter than the first one but I guess it’s normally supposed to be this length, anyway. Feel free to comment, like, reblog, etc. Support really helps keep me motivated and I feel giddy each time. Thank you for reading!

Previous chapter | Next chapter

[bubblepuddles]

Oh my god

Confession hit 100+ notes without me even noticing. This is huge for me, thank you all so much for liking it. I hope to be able to put more content out soon, I just need time to adjust and juggle school work with leisure time. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all those hearts. It makes my own swell ❤️

[bubblepuddles]

Blue Margarita (Bucky Barnes x Reader) part 1/?

                       ~ In memory of the first drink that made me puke ~

                                 Was it the drink? Maybe it was the salt.

Summary (not really): What do regular college students do on a Friday night? Party, of course. College AU. Assumes certain aspects of the reader. Mentions of alcohol. Drink responsibly!

"You're going, right?"

You felt your roommate look at you from head to toe. Clad in pajamas and fluffy slippers, you were lazily lounging on the couch while munching on some cereal. It was almost 9 PM, but who's going to arrest you for eating cereal at night?

"Um, about that---"

"I'm not taking any excuses this time."

You hung your head in defeat. Natasha was your best friend (and roommate), but you were polar opposites. She was outgoing, popular, and sociable. Her grades are a little above average and yet she still manages to make time for parties every other friday night. You on the other hand, while your grades were outstanding, were more recluse, serious, and, well, responsible. Everyone you knew that went to frat parties get shitfaced. Everyone. It also didn't help that this particular party she was dragging you to was one of the most awaited parties of the semester. Civil War. Sounds intimidating. Why was it called that again?

"Nat, you know I don't drink much. I can basically count the times I've had something alcoholic with one hand. And I've only ever gotten tipsy once. I don't want to force you to come home with me after an hour because I got shitfaced after thirty minutes." You explained, your eyes pleading. You tried to play it off as though the only thing holding you back was you preventing her from having a good time, but really, the whole situation made you uncomfortable. Being in a large group of strangers made you extremely anxious, but in the back of your mind, you knew that exposing yourself to your fear would be the thing that can help you out the most.

"But," Nat started, turning her back towards you so she could rummage through your closet to look for something you could wear. "That could also mean that you have a really strong tolerance. And honestly, I won't mind going home after an hour if that meant you went out with me."

Her hand stopped at a particular dress, taking it out from the rack to fully marvel at its design. She turned to you, holding the dress against her torso, a devious smirk on her face. "I didn't know you owned something like this. How come you never wear it?"

A small smile crept up to your face when you saw the dress Nat was holding. "You only break the glass in case of emergencies, Natasha.”

"Well, here's our emergency. My roommate won't come with me to the biggest party of the semester and she already bailed on me last year." She said, pushing the hanger into your hands. You sighed.

"Isn't this a little too much though? I thought people only wore casual on frat parties." You said, taking the hanger anyway. It held your precious Little Black Dress, something you bought a long time ago because you told yourself that this was the year you finally come out of your shell. That was two years ago. And the last time you wore it was in the dressing room.

Nat shrugged her shoulders. "People can wear anything to frat parties. There aren't exactly any written rules."

Natasha herself was wearing a scarlet fitted dress, one that definitely accentuated her curves. Her feet were adorned in silver stilettos (how she manages to come home in those after more than 5 hours straight of wear is beyond you) and her hair was in large curls, framing her face and making it seem shorter than it actually was. She was now in front of the mirror, putting on a pair of hoop earrings.

Your eyes went back to the dress in your arms. It was still as gorgeous as you thought it was two years ago, and it doesn’t even have that weird cabinet smell because you made sure to add it to your laundry load every now and then. You sighed, feeling a change of heart stir within yourself. Maybe wearing a bit of makeup would give you more confidence.

You and Natasha walked arm in arm to the front of the frat house. You gave in to her pleading, both because you were guilty for leaving her alone again and because somewhere deep inside of you, you still hope to be more sociable. Maybe then you could bring other friends in your room just like Natasha does sometimes. You breathe in as much courage as you could as you neared the building. It was booming with music, college students with red cups littered everywhere. You noticed some (the ones that were already wasted, in particular) already tumbling their way across wherever the heck they were going. You also noticed that the building was huge, it had four floors but it was even wider than it was taller. Were all frat houses this large?

"Are we late?" You asked Natasha, still gaping at the building in front of you but leaning over to her ear so that she can hear you.

"Nah, don't worry about it." She said as she confidently strutted her way to the front door.

Heads started turning the moment you two walked inside the room, and for a split second, you thought (or hoped, at least) maybe they were looking at you. You quickly brushed the thought off, however, when you started to hear your roommate's name being hooted and hollered from different areas across the room. You didn’t take offense though; it was understandable because she’s the popular one. Few heads also turned your way and you swore you heard some ask their friend who you were. Whether it was a ‘who is she?’ or a ‘who is she?’, you weren’t really sure. Still, you kept your head up and confidently followed your roommate to wherever she was heading. She seemed to know her way around.

"So, where exactly are we going?"

"The pool area's a nice place to start," she said, slightly leaning her head to your ear. "Has everything you’ll need. Fresh air, topless guys, girls in bikinis."

She winked at you, and you knew exactly what she was suggesting. The very thought made you laugh out loud.

"I'm not gonna come home with someone, Nat!” If Y/N in a frat party wasn't wild enough, Y/N hooking up with someone definitely was.

Your roommate grabbed the glass door before turning to look at you and flashing you a sly smile. "Never say never, Y/N."

She slid the door open for the both of you, only to be greeted by a tall figure purposefully blocking your way.

"You're late." A deep voice said, the owner snaking his hand on Natasha's waist. A sly smile crept up on your roommate's face.

"That's only because you started without me." She replied. Your arm has left Natasha's at this point and you were awkwardly standing beside her. The frat house had a pretty large backyard, it had an open area where the swimming pool, a few chairs, and a lawn were. A small shaded area had a pool table, but it was currently being used for beer pong. People were still littered everywhere (just exactly how many people attended?), but most were concentrated by the swimming pool and the beer pong table. When you accidentally locked eyes with a random guy that was eating a girl’s face out in the pool, you finally decided to address the elephant in the room and instead observe the man in front of you. He was dark, tall, and fit; he wore a collared shirt with small Greek letters embroidered on the upper left corner. He was facing Natasha and both his hands were on her waist while her own were folded across her chest. You wondered if they were a couple, but you were sure she would have told you about him if they were. Plus, it seemed like she was serious the last time she cried her heart out to you and swore she’ll never love as hard again. But that’s a story for another time…

"Sorry sweetheart. It’s the other frat’s turn to host. I had no control whatsoever. But you know we could always take the party somewhere else…"

Oh, that’s right. Civil War was hosted by two fraternities. The two fraternities weren’t family, and it all started because of a fight. Or something. Natasha explained it to you once before but you were only half-listening as she came at a bad time: during an intense Pokémon elite four battle. You wonder if she would get angry if you asked about her again but your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden giggle, making you refocus your eyes to the couple in front of you. The giggle came from your roommate, as the man was now openly flirting with her. You were starting to feel like you've been forgotten. Natasha, ever the sensitive one, noticed this and turned to you, her hand reaching for your back. "By the way, Sam, this is my roommate, Y/N."

"Y/N? She’s the one that bailed on you last time, right? Nice to finally meet you." Sam said with a grin, shaking your hand. “I have to thank you for missing out last time though. I owe you one.”

You didn’t understand the context, so you turned to look at Natasha. She rolled her eyes a little. "Y/N, this is Sam. I met him at last year’s party; he was the one that looked after me."

Whoops, looks like there’s another detail you’ve forgotten and only remembered now. Natasha had told you about this guy the morning after last year’s party. He’s also been to your shared room before, along with some other friends, though they were only in the living room and you always made sure to lock yourself up in the bedroom whenever they were there. Natasha told you that they were friends and that they’ve gone to a couple of (friendly) dates. Or at least, friends were all that she said they were. With all the sexual tension present right now, you weren’t quite sure anymore.

"Nice to meet you." You greeted politely, your eyes awkwardly meeting his for a brief second before looking down again. He was so tall, you basically had to move your head just so you could look into his eyes. You suddenly felt a faint tinge of guilt for bailing on Nat last party. You two were only freshmen last year and you left her to attend a party by herself. And although you were sure she'd have instantly made friends, you knew the difference having a familiar face around would make.

A new song had started to play on the speakers. You notice Sam’s head flick at Natasha’s direction, recognition in his eyes.

"Oh my god." Natasha exclaimed, a hand over her mouth as she looked back at Sam. From their body language, you could tell that the song held memories, most likely from last year's party. It almost made you wish you were there. Almost.

"Right?!" Sam exclaimed before bursting into laughter.

No words needed to be spoken at that moment for you to understand that this was the point where you should let them hangout—a.k.a. the point where you should gather your courage, be an independent woman and GTFO. You quickly looked around for an alibi. You didn't want Nat to feel bad for ditching you, even though you were sure that that would happen next. Your eyes eventually found their way to a red cup (But how could they not? They were everywhere!).

"I,uh, I'll get some of what they're having," You said out of the blue, pointing to a random group of people with red cups. "Don't wait for me."

"Y/N?" Natasha said, surprised at your sudden retreating form.

"Have fun!" You silently mouthed to your roommate before swiftly turning your back towards her and making a beeline for the kitchen.

You get to the kitchen, eyeing the little island which was filled with half-filled bottles of alcohol. You took a red cup from the corner and read the different labels, contemplating on what to get.

'Do you fill cups with vodka? What's the salt for..?'

You mentally cursed yourself for having very little knowledge of alcohol. Now you were going to look like a fool in front of people you don't even know. Great.

You were about to grab a random bottle to fill your cup with when two girls passed by in front of you, filling their cups with the only beverage in a tower dispenser. It was blue, and, well, it looked like Gatorade. It shouldn't be too bad, right?

You mimicked the two girls, which had now left the kitchen, and filled your cup with the same blue liquid. You took a quick sip.

Blegh.

You looked over to your roommate, who was still outside with Sam, and found her dancing with a group of people and possibly having a really good time. Sighing, you looked around for a familiar face... and found none. Which was to be expected, really, because your other friends were nerds like you, who'd never be at any party. Other people you knew were only acquaintances, most you've only talked to like once or twice because they had questions about a final project.

You sighed to yourself. Now you really wish you went to last year's party. It could've at least been a decent conversation starter.

An hour had passed with you barely noticing it. You were now sitting comfortably on the couch, looking around in order to rest your eyes after what seemed like your thirtieth round of mobile air hockey. Your drink is now sitting on the coffee table, forgotten, a one inch gap from the blue liquid and the cup's brim.

You noticed that the people around you had significantly changed. Everybody except you seemed like they had too much to drink: from the girl puking in the kitchen sink to the guy standing perfectly still in the middle of the living room. At this point, Natasha was nowhere to be found, possibly leaving the pool area a while ago. You were about to leave the comforts of the couch (after having a lengthy mental argument to yourself) when you felt the right side of the couch sink.

"They say the best way to drink a blue margarita is to dip the rim of the cup in salt." You hear a smooth voice from beside you say. It was a guy, probably around the same age as you. He had a blue band on his wrist, with the same Greek symbols as the ones on Sam’s shirt.

"May I?"

You blinked.

"Uh, sure, go ahead."

He took your cup, wetting the rim with water droplets from an ice bucket. He tapped a bit of salt on the same area. "Try it. You'll never have it plain again."

Your eyes were met with smiling blue orbs, ones you thought you couldn't say no to, even if you wanted to. So you decided to give the drink one more chance. You took a quick sip.

"Mm." You hummed. It tastes better, still like shit, but at least now the familiar taste of salt was there to make it bearable. You still had to force back a disgusted face, though.

"Right?" He grinned, seemingly proud of himself, taking a sip from his own cup.

You observed the boy beside you using your peripheral vision. You could tell that he was good looking, he had his hair slicked back into a low bun, making him look clean. You didn't know him but you were quite certain that he was popular, judging by the number of people coming to greet him. You wonder why he's all alone on the couch with you. As you turned to look at him, you hoped to have summoned the courage to say "Hi" or "Thank you" or something. He catches you off guard, though, when he turns to look at you as well and you suddenly melted on the spot, with your mouth slightly agape as if you were about to talk. But alas, another person had come up to him before any sound could come out of your mouth and soon, they were caught up in a conversation. You averted your eyes back to the drink in your hand and focused on gulping it down instead.

"...why don't you come with us to the back?"

Oh. So this was it. It hasn't even been 5 minutes with this guy and he's already going to be off to the back with some other people. If you knew it'd happen this soon, you would've opened your mouth earlier. It was getting pretty lonely on the couch by yourself.

"Oh, no..."

Hm?

"I, uh," You felt him glance at you. "I'm with my friend."

Friend? You barely exchanged five words with the guy. Not that you complained though. You didn't hear what the other person said after that. All you know is that they're gone now, and that you're left on the couch with your 'friend'… and your other good pal, Awkward Silence.

"Thanks for playing along," You heard him say after a period of silence. "She can be quite... persistent."

He laughed a little, but it was clear that it was an uncomfortable one.

"No need to thank me, I didn't really do anything." You said, smiling at him and meeting those gorgeous blue eyes once more. He seemed surprised at the sudden eye contact, however, and he broke it briefly, looking down at his cup while rubbing his neck. Geez. This guy's actually really good looking.

"I, uh---"

"SHOTS!" A voice interrupted his, an organizer (you thought, judging from the embroidered Greek letters that matched the building’s on the polo shirt he was wearing) suddenly in front of you with a tray of shot glasses. You looked at the brunet beside you. He gave you a small shrug and a quick smile before taking two shot glasses, handing you the one held by his left hand.

Oh dear. Were you ready for shots?

It was now or never, though, because soon, a crowd had formed around the two of you and had started to chant, "Shots, shots, shots!"

You took the shot glass with your right hand and swallowed some courage before bringing it up to your mouth. The strong scent of alcohol filled your nostrils and your reflex made you back away slightly.

"Wait, wait." The guy in front of you said, making you freeze. In a swift movement, he had linked his right arm with yours, making you two tangled in an elaborate, and cliché, position. You hear the crowd cheer louder. Surprised, but also thinking that it was way too late to back out, you just accepted what fate has brought upon you and finally drank the liquid, the brunet following you soon after. You heard the crowd cheer louder.

Your face wrinkled in response to the feeling of the strong liquid burning your throat. "Oh, geez."

You hear him chuckle beside you, causing you to glance at him. He held a lemon slice in front of your lips. "First time? Here."

You usually weren’t so bold so you weren’t sure what came over you. Maybe alcohol does give you courage. You leaned forward a little and took the lemon slice with your teeth. You felt your lips touch his fingertips briefly. When you looked back at him, his eyes were wide and he almost instantly broke off eye contact. His face was slightly red. You wonder whether it was the alcohol... or whether if it was the fact that you did something so bold out of the blue. You weren’t sure what to think, but you were at the brink of assuming the worst when you felt silence start creep up on you once more.

"Show's done, nothing to see here." He said, breaking the silence and waving off the crowd (that you were unaware was still surrounding you). But even after the crowd got thinner, he cleared his throat, turned to you and proposed:

"Do you, uh, wanna... get out of here?"

You looked at him and instantly thought that maybe you shouldn’t have. His steel blue eyes had once again bound you with their spell.

"...sure."

A/N: Wow, Civil War, right? Corny, I know, forgive me. I also purposefully avoided naming the two fraternities because I wasn’t witty enough to think of any (just think of it as Team Cap and Team Iron Man). Will try to update as soon as I can (even though I think I made this chapter a little too long), but I’ll most likely will get swamped by schoolwork soon or maybe even get demotivated. But I’ll try my hardest, I’m in love with the story myself. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! <3 Next chapter

[bubblepuddles]

Random post nobody asked for:

Personalized my profile a bit (yes, I’m still alive, just quietly lurking). I don’t own any of the artwork (profile photo and banner), I found both on google like the scum I am. But if anyone knows the owners and they would like to be credited, I’ll be more than willing to do so.

On another note, it’s been a while since I posted Confession and I’ve gotten some hearts, retweets (and even some follows!) here and there. Thank you all so much. It’s not my best (a product of a sudden rush of inspiration while on vacation) but I’m actually kind of proud of it still. Hoping to work on more fanfiction soon but school is kind of in the way. I’ll strive harder though. ☺️

[bubblepuddles]

Confession (Eggsy x reader fanfiction)

“Tell me something you’ve always wanted to tell me.”

Your phone buzzed and lit up, catching your attention. You glanced at the clock, 10:58 PM. And although for some, the night was still young, you, who could certainly count the number of true friends she had with one hand, wondered about who would want something from you at that hour. Shifting your attention from the unfinished work on your computer, you pressed the button on your phone which screen had now dimmed to black.

“Tell me something you’ve always wanted to tell me.”

Eggsy, the contact read. Gary, or Eggsy, Unwin had been your friend for years, even if you don’t count the years he’s been MIA from your life. You’ve been with him before he lost his way, before the stolen cars, before his stepfather’s abuse. You were one of the people who stood by him, letting him cry his frustrations out and also one of the few who stayed when he suddenly disappeared after a huge dispute between him and his abusive stepfather. You were never really angry at him (although the thought did cross your mind a couple of times) for leaving without a word, as you thought you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. You also reassured yourself that he would come back, as that’s just the type of person he was. And true enough, one summer morning, there was a knock on your door, a lad with a charming smile on your porch, and a bouquet of lovely carnations on his arm. Instantly, you forgot how deep inside, you almost wanted to not forgive him.

“Are you drunk?” You replied, knowing it was out of character for him to text you something in that nature, and also knowing that his favorite princess recently just got engaged to an equally charming prince. Although Eggsy and Princess Tilde never met again after spending the night together, you had a feeling that deep inside, he always longed for her to come looking for him. “She isn’t worth it, Eggsy.”

“Haha, it’s nothing serious, love. :)” 

Maybe it was just a British thing but he seems to like calling you a number of seemingly affectionate pet names which you really don’t know how to react to or much less to deal with, not being British by blood yourself. At this point, though, you were used to your heart jumping a little bit whenever he calls you by anything aside from your name or whenever he throws his arms over your shoulders.

“Don’t be out too late. Michelle will worry.”

“Tell me something you’ve always wanted to tell me.”

You tapped your nails on the table. Seems like you can’t get away without giving him an answer. You contemplated on what to say as you glanced at the clock. 11:11 PM. You sighed deeply and began typing.

“I can’t remember how many times I caught myself staring at my digital clock, waiting for 11:11 just to be able to wish for you.”

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a solid minute before you grew big enough balls to hit send. You glanced at the clock once more, 11:13 PM. You rocked yourself on your chair in an effort to calm your nerves. When it didn’t work, you got up and started pacing. ‘Oh god, that was totally a confession. Why did I write that? I could’ve said something totally platonic instead!’  You mentally cursed yourself for finally being unable to contain your romantic feelings from your friend. It’s true, you’ve liked him for quite a while now. He used to be just a happy crush whose presence you appreciated, but recently, you discovered that it may be more than that. When did it start, you wonder? Maybe ever since he showed up on your porch in a pressed suit with that goddamn grin and those gorgeous flowers. He just looked so goddamn handsome, and having known him for quite some time already, his getup caught you off-guard. He never really wore proper clothes like that and he just cleaned up so goddamn well. You stayed in love with him even after he told you about all of his escapades while you two sat on the porch on that same day, the wildest one (in his opinion) being the time he fucked Tilde in the ass. Of course, that part broke your heart a little, but he just looked so fucking proud of himself that you started to feel proud of him too. After all, it seemed like his life was finally turning around. A job, a house, and a maybe-girlfriend. You honestly couldn’t possibly be any happier for him. When you still haven’t heard your ringtone, you glanced at the clock once more. 11:15 PM. Really? It seemed as if eons had already passed.

Tired both physically and emotionally, you lied down on your bed and closed your eyes. You almost didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep if you hadn’t been woken up by the sound of rocks pelting your window. “What the–?” you glanced at your clock once more. 1:24 AM.

You groggily trudged your way to your window, cracked it open and peered outside, looking for the perpetrator, only to come face to face with your longtime crush.

“What the? Were you sleeping?” He accused, glancing at your messy bed. “How can you sleep at such a crucial time? That’s just fucking cruel!” He complained, making himself welcome, slumping one leg over your window.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, confused and still a bit groggy. “Is this a dream..?”

You could see with the way he turned, the way his eyebrows furrowed and with the way his lips contorted that he was about to snap at you. Instead, though, he took one look at your sleepy face and his features softened, his mouth fighting back a smile. “I assume you haven’t read my texts?”

You shook your head. “Go on, then,” He sighed, slumping himself on your windowsill.

You stared at him for a moment, he still looked gorgeous even when he’s out of that suit you loved so much. He was massaging a sore spot on his shoulder while trying to fight back a yawn, though ultimately failing in the end.

You walked over your desk and pressed the button on your phone. Six messages, three missed calls. All of them were from Eggsy. You read the messages one by one.

“…is that a confession?” 11:24 PM.

“Love, was that a confession?” 11:29 PM.

Missed a call from Eggsy. 11:32 PM.

“(Y/N?) Please, doll, explain what your text meant.” 11:53 PM.

“Sweet, I’m too drunk for this. Please don’t make me beg too much.” 12:13 AM. ‘Kudos to him for maintaining proper spelling.’ You thought.

Missed a call from Eggsy. 12:19 AM.

“That’s it, I’m coming over. Are your parents home?” 12:48 AM.

“My friend’s driving, he didn’t drink. Don’t worry” 12:50 AM.

Missed a call from Eggsy. 1:18 AM.

You glanced up from your phone to Eggsy, who was now leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees while intently staring at you. Not knowing how to break the ice, you waited for him to speak. Eggsy, however, didn’t appreciate your silence, resting his back on your pillows once more while shutting his eyes and rubbing his forehead. “Darling, if that was a love confession and the reason why you’re still mute is because you’re still unsure about how I feel for you, then honestly, you’d be unbelievably oblivious.” He said with a frustrated sigh, leaning forward again, his eyes piercing your own pair once more. “Why the hell do you think was I so frantic if I didn’t like you back..?” He asked, his last few words almost a whisper.

Your eyes widened a bit, still quite unsure of what he said. Did he just say he liked you? His head hung low and his hands went to the back of his neck after getting things off his chest, almost as if he realized too late that what he said was embarrassing. Inhaling sharply, you made your way closer to the boy, while he stared at the floor, unaware of what you were doing. You kneeled in front of him, startling him a little, his face now only inches apart from yours. You placed your hands on his knees and you almost thought he wasn’t as nervous as you were because he never broke eye contact but his sudden gulp gave his façade away.

“I like you, Eggsy. Maybe love, even.” You mumbled, staring at his lips for a moment before taking them into yours, kissing him softly. You closed your eyes and felt Eggsy reciprocate almost instantly, inhaling sharply while his own lips kissed yours with urgency, both his hands cupping your face. He tasted mildly of beer, but you didn’t mind. His lips were finally on yours and it just felt so goddamn right that you thought nothing could ruin that moment. Without breaking the kiss, he gently lifted you up and sat you on his lap, his hands finding their way to your waist. Yours were now over his shoulders, pulling him as close as you can to your body. Not long after, the two of you were breathless and were forced to pull away. You stared at Eggsy, who stared back at you with a flushed face. You wondered whether it was the beer.

“I-I…”

“I know, Eggsy.” You cut him off, your right hand touching the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours once more, already missing the sensation of his lips. You heard him grunt slightly, his own kisses turning slightly more aggressive over time. He picked you up and placed you on your bed, supporting his own body with his arms on your sides doing all this without breaking any contact between the two of you. When you two finally did, he was breathless, slightly sweaty and his face was redder than before.

“I love you. Be my girlfriend.”

You bit your lower lip, you saw it coming but hearing him say the words felt way better than simply reading between the lines. You gave him a nod as you found yourself unable to speak. Eggsy grinned at you, lowering his face to your neck and giving you gentle kisses.

“Good girl.”

The two of you laid side by side while holding hands after finally getting tired of eating the other’s face out. It was past three in the morning but the both of you were still awake, staring at the ceiling. You shifted your position to face him, his arm now wrapped protectively in yours while you kissed his shoulder lightly.

“Babe, my lips are right here.” He teased, looking at you sleepily before closing his eyes, waiting for your touch.

You raised yourself a little and gave his lips a small lick, whispering into them, “My parents aren’t home… sleep over.”

His eyes were suddenly wide open, surprised both by the sudden wetness on his lips and by your suggestion. When he looked at you, however, you had your eyes closed, sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. He smiled to himself, adjusting his position so he can wrap an arm around you. He licked his lips before closing his eyes, clicking his tongue and grinning to himself, thinking you may have the tendency to fall asleep on him during the most crucial times and that he may have to get used to it if he plans to stay for long.

“So unbelievably cruel.”

Author’s note: Hello people, this is my first tumblr post. I actually wasn’t sure where I should post this, but I figured maybe this would be a good way for me to start up this account. Not entirely sure whether I’d be posting more content like this or if I’ll just end up abandoning this account (like many others) but hopefully the former rather than the latter. Please feel free to leave comments and requests (regarding a sequel, for example) and I’ll see what I can do about them. Thanks for reading! P.S.: This will also be posted on my new Quotev account, in case tumblr becomes a total flop.