𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄. in which the alleged softest boy in the bowers' gang meets a girl who encourages him to show his true colors.
*·˚ ༘♡
❨ EST. 2018 ❩ ✓
❨ EDITED. 2024 ❩
written by kaya.
victor criss x fem!reader
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( THE BOY IN THE BUBBLE ) ACT I, CHAPTER THREE: SHE'S THE MAN
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"ma? dad?...anyone home?" (y/n) shouts as she slowly steps into the dark house.
although the driveway was empty, there was a chance ben could still be home.
when she gets no response, she waves an arm behind her, beckoning the bowers gang to enter.
patrick makes himself at home as he sits on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table.
(y/n) slaps the back of his head, causing him to jump and put his feet down.
"let me use your phone to call greta." henry demands, and the girl rolls her eyes, pointing to the kitchen.
once his back is turned, she stares at him, watching as he gracefully lights a cigarette and leans the phone on his shoulder.
"where's the drinks?" belch questions, eyes glancing around the nice house.
"calm your tits, reginald. i'm getting 'em right now." the girl scoffs, heading down the hall.
"how the hell do you know my name?" the boy shouts after her, but when he doesn't get an answer, he turns to patrick and whispers, "how the hell does she know my name?"
the lanky boy smirks, once again lifting his feet onto the coffee table.
"she's a smart girl."
minutes go by as the girl doesn't return, leaving the four boys confused and worried—about their drinks, of course.
"here you go!" her voice sing-songs from behind them all seated on the couch. they turn their heads to see that she's changed out of her bloody t-shirt and into a loosely fitting dress.
"about damn time!" henry cheers, snatching the bottle and kissing it.
eventually, greta and sally show up, making it apparent that they are not here for (y/n) but for the boys.
hours go by as the teenagers sit around and drink, a few them lighting a cancer stick every once in a while.
suddenly tired of the loud banter the teens cause, (y/n) sneaks away and goes up to her room, feeling a bit wobbly as she does so.
she's only had about four or five drinks.
just as the (h/c) haired girl is about to twist the doorknob of her room, an arm grabs her by the elbow.
without warning, she's pulled into a toned chest, her hands resting on the tall boys torso as she glances at him through hooded eyes.
"whatchu lookin' at, flamer?" (y/n) speaks, giggling when she feels his lips against her neck.
"you, dollface." he grins down at her, large hands gripping her chin before forcefully pushing his lips against hers.
she lets out a soft hum, not even realizing that he has opened her door and is pulling her towards the bed.
their lips remained locked as he pushes her onto her comforter, hands making their way up her dress.
"shit, wait." (y/n) suddenly stops when she feels his hands fondling with her breasts.
"oh, come on. i promise i won't light you on fire." his pleading voice causes the girl to huff out a laugh.
"nope. you heard my mama, i came here to be a good girl."
patrick clenches his jaw, running his hands through his hair before straightening the girl's dress and walking out.
(y/n) sighs to herself as she sits up, the taste of cigarettes and beer still evident on her lips.
as she usually does when it's past midnight and she's bored, she opens her window and settles on the roof.
"patrick sleeps with anything with legs, it's a good thing you told him no." a drunken slur beside her causes her to let out a short gasp, her body jumping so mildly that she almost falls.
her eyes lock with soft brown ones, her heartbeat slowing to it's normal pace when the blonde boy smiles.
"i figured. last thing i need on my case is an std." she chuckles.
the skinny boy scoots closer to her, shifting his body until he's completely facing her, and she soon does the same.
"you're the new girl, right?"
(y/n) shrugs, "yeah but that doesn't matter, does it? you and your bogus gang are still gonna bother me."
he chuckles at that, "i'm victor."
"i know." she grins, "i'm (y/n)."
victor nods, "i know."
it goes silent for a few minutes, the both of them getting lost in the other's gaze.
"you're a lot more chill than the others." the (s/c) skinned girl finally speaks, noticing the loud laugher of everyone inside.
"you're chill too. a-and those knuckle rings are badass! patrick looked scared shitless."
she giggles at the boy's drunken demeanor.
"i don't know about that—"
"yes, hell yes. he was scared. you're the man, (n/n)." victor begins to laugh hysterically, and (y/n) can't help but join in, "she's the man!"
"what's going on here?" greta's nasally voice is heard from the window and the two seventeen year olds glance at her.
"i was just telling (y/n) how bad she is." the hazelnut eyed boy grins, completely ignoring greta's look of distaste.
"the boys, sally, and i are playing spin the bottle if you wanna join." the words are directed towards victor, so (y/n) scoots away and lights a ciggy.
"alright, yeah. gotta motor, (n/n). see ya!"
the seventeen year old female waves in his direction, not bothering to glance his way as she knows greta is sending her daggers.
a loud huff escapes her lips as she lies back and stares at the dark sky above.
