LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME
synopsis: your life sucks. so why not place an order with an etsy witch when you have nothing to lose? and after you win a free vacation, you quickly discover just how much there is to gain when you meet the hottest man you've ever met. is it just a fluke? or maybe fate? fuck him and find out!
pairing: clingy!superstar x loser!reader
wc: 4.4k
content: smut!! fluff, porn with plot, a win for the etsy witches, awkward + self-conscious reader, reader's boss is lowk also in love with her, vacations, shy x outgoing, getting stuck in an elevator together, piv sex, missionary, love bites, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, touch of dacryphilia, a man who knows EXACTLY what he wants lmfao
PREVIEW BELOW
Hiring an Etsy witch to turn your life around was a new low.
Sick of being sure that everyone else you passed on the street and spoke to at work could smell your desperation, pick up on the longing lingering in every sentence. Knew how badly you craved any kind of companionship.
You weren’t asking for that much.
Just to be a little, um, luckier?
For things to start going your way for once. For people to at least see you instead of straight through you.
At least you didn’t have to wonder for long whether or not her spell worked.
Two days later, you won a vacation sweepstakes you had completely forgotten you’d even entered months ago, getting an all-inclusive luxury cruise package to pretty countries you’d always dreamed of going to.
You couldn’t fucking believe it when your boss approved the time off to take it. It wasn’t that he was a total asshole, but he was usually more…strict? He had barely even looked up when he signed off on it, just muttering that it sounded nice before you scurried out of his office. Maybe more surprising was how your coworkers actually asked why when you informed the rest of your coworkers over email that you wouldn’t be available during those dates. Telling you they hoped you had fun, abruptly including you in conversations and even inviting you out to dinner. You were barely able to stammer out a yes when they asked if you wanted to go shopping with them afterwards, taking you to stores you’d never stepped foot in before.
Everything was too good to be true.
You were still you, after all.
Awkward. Unsure. Struggling to express how you thought or felt without feeling like a fool for speaking in the first place. Uncomfortable in your own skin.
You kept for some shoe to drop, to wake up and realize it was all a dream.
“I don’t believe you’ve worn that before,” your boss stoically assessed when you showed up ten minutes after everyone else had left the day before your cruise, brows scrunched together as he half-scowled at one of your new outfits, a pencil skirt that felt a little too tight, your button-up clinging to your chest as you passed him some paperwork.
“I went shopping with some of the girls,” you mumbled, throat constricting as you tried not to feel self-conscious. It didn’t work. No matter what you did, it only felt like you were forcing a square peg through a circle hole attempting to fit in. “If it’s inappropriate, I won’t wear it again.”
“It’s fine,” he cleared his throat, loosening his tie as he checked the time on his watch. “Shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”
“I just wanted to make sure you got this,” you muttered, smoothing out your skirt as you teetered over to him, placing the papers in front of him. He picked up his reading glasses from the corner of his desk, sliding the thin frames up his nose as he squinted at the words in front of him. Scanning over it quickly while you picked at your cuticles, wondering whether or not you were embarrassing yourself just by existing.
He made a contemplative hum, raking his fingers through his neatly parted blond hair as you glanced back over your shoulder at the door.
“So, um, I suppose I’ll see you in two weeks then?” You awkwardly said, immediately wishing you’d just said good night.
“I’m sorry?” He frowned, his head snapping back up.
“You approved my PTO,” you reminded him, skin crawling at the feeling of correcting him as you continued, “Uh, I’ll just be on a cruise for two weeks.”
He stared at you for a few seconds. Saying nothing, his eyes searching your face as you froze too.
“A cruise?”
“I just won a sweepstakes thing,” you explained, forcing a small smile. “I, like, never win anything, so-”
“And you know for sure it’s not a scam?” He spoke sternly, and you didn’t know how to deal with his disapproval over something you were supposed to be excited for.
“Yes?” You blinked, lips pursing together tightly.
“Oh,” he grimaced, immediately collecting his composure again. “I suppose it slipped my mind. Have a nice time with whoever you’re going with.”
“It’ll just be me,” you muttered, humiliation heating your face at confessing that you didn’t have a boyfriend or anyone to go with and a room for two.
Maybe you should’ve wished for that instead.
His expression changed, but you hadn’t decided what it was supposed to mean before it was replaced by his typical mask of professionalism. “Be safe then. You have my phone number.”
You didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean.
“I, uh, don’t think there will be good reception,” you said, still confused as one corner of his mouth curled up.
“My email then.”
You still didn’t get it.
But lingering on it a full day later didn’t bring you any closer to figuring him out.
Besides, you had a boat to enjoy.
Even if you were by yourself.
Although, you guessed fate had more funny plans in store for you.
Most people might think getting trapped in an elevator on the first day of their vacation was awful luck.
However, they probably weren’t stuck in one with the hottest stranger they ever met.
You could barely suck in any air. You just didn’t know if it was from claustrophobia or from the fact he stole your breath the moment you stepped in and saw him leaning back against the wall, unbothered and barely paying attention as he swiped away on his phone.
He looked a little familiar, but you were pretty sure you’d never seen him before – unless it was on the cover of a passing magazine.
His eyes started to look up, and you were quick to avert your gaze to study the floor instead, shuffling on the soles of your flip flops as if there was something remotely interesting there simply to avoid actually interacting with him.
Except your stupid mouth was moving to come up with something to say as you reached out to tap the emergency stuck button for the tenth time since it stopped two minutes ago.
“It’s hot in here, huh?” You cleared your throat, back pressed against the wall in the cramped elevator as you tried to play it cool when pressing the button did nothing.
He looked up at you. Studied the flustered expression on your face as you folded your arms tightly against your chest. You wished you'd worn something different.
More comfortable.
You weren't used to dresses this tiny, the kind that clung to your body and made you hyper aware of how much you were sweating. All you wanted was to just go grab dinner at one of the restaurants at a table for one.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, apparently cute and concerned.
“Fine,” you answered, cringing internally at how short and stiff it came out.
You figured he'd drop it. Offer a line about them fixing the elevator soon.
But in the corner of your vision, you watched him slip his phone back in his pockets and take out a folded up map of the ship layout they’d been passing out earlier.
You didn’t know what you thought he’d do with it.
Just, well, not start fanning you with the flimsy paper, waving it in front of your face in an attempt to help.
FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE (also features a wide assortment of other oneshots/series!)
div by @/tsumiinum
