xoxoyenn

[xoxoyenn]

DRUNK REGRETS

⌗ sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

၄၃ — (sweetheart!reader comes home from a party drunk and her darling girlfriend takes care of her.)

You barely make it to the couch before collapsing onto it with a groan, burying your face into the cushions. The world is spinning. You swear you can still hear the bass from last night’s party thumping in your skull.

And then, like a guardian angel in an oversized sweater, Sabrina appears.

“Oh, babe…” Her voice is soft, laced with amusement but mostly concern. She crouches beside you, brushing stray strands of hair from your clammy forehead. “I told you not to let Liv pick your drinks.”

You whine in response, curling further into yourself. “I didn’t let her. She just—she just handed me stuff, and I was too weak to say no.”

Sabrina chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re a sweetheart, baby, but you have to learn the power of no.”

“I’ll practice,” you mumble. “Tomorrow.”

She shakes her head, amused, before slipping an arm under your shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed before you pass out here.”

It takes some effort, mostly from her, but she manages to guide you to your shared bedroom. You practically melt onto the bed, sighing dramatically as she tucks you in.

“You’re an angel,” you murmur, voice muffled by the pillow.

“I know.” She smirks, pressing another kiss to your cheek. Then, she disappears into the kitchen, only to return a few minutes later with a glass of water and some Advil. “Here, baby. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You grumble but obey, swallowing the pills with a grimace. Sabrina watches you with a fond smile, her fingers absentmindedly tracing soothing patterns on your arm.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you mumble sleepily. “Do you—do you secretly like it when I’m a mess?”

Sabrina laughs, climbing into bed beside you. “No, I just love you. Even when you smell like tequila and regret.”

You hum in contentment, nuzzling into her warmth. “Best girlfriend ever.”

She pulls you close, letting you rest your head against her chest. “I know, sweetheart.”

And with her heartbeat in your ear and her fingers gently stroking your back, you drift off, safe and loved—even in your hungover misery.

[xoxoyenn]

hiii im yenna!

yennalin ♡ she/her. amber’s lover girl. legacy of demeter. vitenamese && indian. canadian. i collect romance novels. iced coffee lvr. lavender tea is my EVERYTHING. eah watcher. i only watch youtube and write. im in love katseye. . . <3

⤹ shyest girl on earth • she/her .ᐟ

─ ⌗ profesh fangirl !

[xoxoyenn]

don’t scream for me baby, okay?

⌗ amber freeman x fem!reader

၄၃ — ( amber just got done with her nightly…killings. and wants to see her amazing girlfriend but she forgot that she’s still in her robe and mask, oh well! )

The doorbell rang. It was late—too late for anyone to be stopping by unannounced. You furrowed your brows, setting your phone down on the counter as you wiped your hands on a dish towel.

Your kitchen wasn’t far from the front door, so it only took a few steps to reach it. The moment you unlocked it and swung it open, your breath hitched.

Standing on your doorstep, in full Ghostface attire—robe, gloves, and that unmistakable mask—was Amber.

Your heart lurched in your chest. A sickening mix of fear and confusion rushed through you as you took an instinctive step back.

Amber, on the other hand, looked equally frozen. It only took a second for her to realize—oh, shit.

In a panic, she tore the mask off, revealing her flushed face and wild eyes. “Babe, wait—it’s just me!”

“Amber,” your voice came out slow, measured, and just a little shaky, “why the fuck are you wearing that?”

She let out a nervous laugh, kicking the door shut behind her and pulling the hood off her head. “Okay, so, funny story—”

“Amber.”

She winced at your tone, rubbing the back of her neck. “Look, it’s not what it looks like.”

You crossed your arms. “So you’re not dressed like Ghostface in the middle of the night, creeping up to my house?”

Amber hesitated. “Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but—”

You took a step closer, scanning her—her messy hair, the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, the way she was way too jittery for someone who just happened to be in a horror-movie slasher costume for fun.

Then, your eyes trailed lower.

“…Amber.” Your voice dropped, and this time it wasn’t just confusion or suspicion—it was realization.

Her hands were still gloved. And there, against the black fabric, was something darker, something that looked way too much like—

She saw where you were looking and quickly yanked the gloves off, shoving them behind her back with a nervous laugh. “Haha, um, don’t worry about that!”

Your stomach twisted. “Amber—”

“Babe,” she cut in, stepping closer with that look in her eyes, the one that always got her out of trouble. “Let’s just—let’s not focus on that, okay? I missed you.” She reached for your waist, but you instinctively took a step back.

Her face faltered. “Seriously?”

You swallowed hard. “Amber. What the hell did you do?”

Amber sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, fine, if you’re gonna make a big deal out of it—” She smirked, tilting her head. “Let’s just say…someone who really deserved it had a bad night.”

Your blood ran cold. “Amber—”

She pouted, stepping forward again, slower this time. “Are you mad at me, baby?”

You should be. You wanted to be. But as she reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together, you realized something horrifying.

Your heart wasn’t pounding from fear.

It was pounding because the way she looked at you—flushed, breathless, and just a little too eager—was intoxicating.

And that? That was dangerous.