⌗ 𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

Cheryl Blossom [2]

CHERYL BLOSSOM | Fem!Reader

idk anymore

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[quatorze]

Y/n's POV

I hate parties. I seriously hate them and I knew that coming to this one was a bad idea. The people in here seemed sketchy and I'm not particularly familiar in this part of town. But I had been dragged by yet another demanding Cheryl and so, here I am.

Cheryl, Cheryl Blossom. She's my best friend, and she had been ever since I moved here in Riverdale two years ago. Surprisingly, she approached me first and let's just say I was scared shitless and blushed like crazy. Who knew a girl like her could bring a person down to their knees the first time they meet her. Of course, after hearing things about her from other people I would act like that in front of her. She's the HBIC for goodness sake. When she started talking to me though, everything changed—not like I judged her or anything. I was just taking precautions. She was so sweet and gentle towards me, and she treated me like a queen who stood alongside her. From that day forward, we just clicked and became best friends.

One tiny problem though—hell, it's a freaking big problem. Unfortunately, I started to catch feelings which made it very awkward for me to be around her. You may wonder why it's awkward and well, first, she's Cheryl. She's intimidating, seductive, and all in all, just freaking perfect in my eyes. Second thing, she's a touchy person with her other friends. Everywhere I go with her, she's either clinging on my arm or basically my whole body which was most of the time. She basically begged me to accompany her to this stupid party and I definitely can't refuse when she gives me her adorable pouty puppy dog face.

And, of course, for how many times she assured me she wouldn't ditch me, she freaking ditched me and I have no idea where that annoyingly cute redhead is at. This is one fucking amazing night. I groaned and sighed before walking over to the bowl of punch that has been sitting on the table and dipping a red solo cup to take the liquid out. As I was about to take a sip, I stop abruptly, suspicious of the contents. I sniffed the drink and grimaced at the strong smell of alcohol. I scoffed and shook my head before passing it to a random person who gladly took it, spilled it back in the punch bowl, and drank from there. I scrunched my face in disgust and confusion before walking away.

I walk around the house and observed my surroundings, having my arms in front of me to avoid the devils. Gosh, there are too many hormonal teenagers here. We need Jesus and a sea of holy water. As I tried to find Cheryl, I am not okay. Like, girls have been throwing their arms over me, thinking that I'm going to take them upstairs to have sex with them, hell no.

"Oh my God, It's Y/n~!" I immediately turned my body at the sound of my name to see a very drunk Cheryl.

"Oh, fucking hell." I mutter under my breath, pinching the bridge of my nose, "Cheryl, where have you been?"

"Dancing," She slurs with a grin on her face, "And drinking, yeah. I drank. Oh my gosh, let's go dance. It's going to be fun!"

"How many drinks have you had?" I asked, panicking slightly. Cheryl was my ride and I don't exactly know where we are right now. I'd say the middle of no where.

"I don't know," She shrugs before raising her fingers and staring at them, "Six? Seven? Oh, ten! Wait, no. I don't have enough fingers. Oh, yeah! I think I had like s-sixteen?"