Musicals x Reader OneShots

Heather Chandler x Reader (Heathers) +~Fluff~+

Requested: indeed, by @a_filthy_homestuck 

Title: Trapped Together

(y/n)'s POV

Today was a lame day, with so many boring classes, so after lunch I decided I would spend the second half of the school day skipping in the bathroom. I looked myself in the mirror, honestly astonished that people didn't figure out I was a lesbian until a couple months back at the beginning of the year.

I dressed in a black hoodie with a skull on it, ripped back jeans, black converse with little scribbles on them, and numerous chains, some hanging like suspenders off my pants, one around my neck as a necklace. The school didn't exactly like my punk-goth attire, but what could they do to stop me?

The school also wasn't a fan of my bright blue dyed hair or numerous piercings, alongside the eyebrow slit on my right eyebrow. Can't win em all, I guess, since I liked the way I looked. I adjusted my black beanie, before hearing someone else step in.

I looked in the mirror to see Heather Chandler, the hottest girl in school and queen bee, standing in the entrance, lacking a posse behind her surprisingly.

"What are you doing here?" She barked, looking at me in the mirror. I smirked, turning to look at her.

"Presumably same as you, miss Chandler. What would I be doing besides skipping, summoning the dark lord Satan?" I scoffed. She rolled her eyes, clearly not used to anyone fighting back. She was known to be an asshole, so I had to keep my guard up.

"With you it wouldn't surprise me," she responded in that snobby voice I was all too familiar with.

I used to be in love with her, watching her like a lost puppy all day. Now I was totally over that, absolutely no feelings were left. I didn't like her at all. She was a priss and totally straight so I had no reason to turn to goo at the mere mention of her name.

And that wasn't really my style anymore. I was the top-energy bad girl who would send a wink in a pretty girls direction, not caring if she wanted to chat or not. At least, not externally.

"Earth to the delinquent." She said, waving a perfectly manicured hand in front of my face.

"Sorry, I'm too busy ignoring you, princess," I said with a smug glare. She gasped.

"How DARE you! You just waltz in, newbie, and insult me? I'll have you know-" she said, but I cut her off with a finger on her lips.

"I'm not new. I've lived here since I was 7." I injected. She looked shocked, and I couldn't tell if some of the pink on her cheeks was new or just makeup.

"Well then, guess you were too lame to take note of." She huffed.

"Or, little miss prissy, you just live in your bubble that excludes anyone who you see as inferior solely because they're different than you. AKA, you're an asshole." I bit back. Yeah, okay, a bit harsh, I know. But she was an asshole. Sure, a really pretty asshole with a charming voice and soft-looking hair. But an asshole nonetheless.

"I may be an asshole, but at least I'm pretty." She snapped back. My glare grew sharper.

"Maybe for the 1980's. Wake up, Heather, this is 2020. We survived the quarantine apocalypse yet you still can't bother to dress from a more recent decade?" I snapped back. I didn't know anything about fashion but I knew she looked like she belonged in a cliche old movie. She was basically a stock high school villainess.

"Ugh, you don't quit, do you? We get it, you're edgy. Now, leave. I'm skipping in here and judging by this conversation, I don't think you'd like to be cooped up in a room with me. Beat it." She decided.

"No! I was here first, so if anyone's leaving it's you."

"I don't leave for anybody." She snapped back.

"Okay, what about, we just both shut up and pretend to get along, since it's clear that no one's leaving." I decided pointedly. 

"Fine. Well, as you know, I'm Heather Chandler, but I haven't caught your name." She said. I smirked, stepping a bit closer.

"The name's (y/n) (l/n). I would say it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I try not to blatantly lie." I introduced, holding my hand out for her to shake it.

She reluctantly grabbed my hand, and I noticed how soft her hand was.

Okay, stop being so cripplingly gay, (y/n). She isn't your dream girlfriend with soft hands who you can cuddle in a cabin in the woods. She's a bitch.

But after that, we did start getting into conversation, with not as many cripplingly sarcastic comments as I expected.

"So you speak fluent French?" She asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

"I do, actually. I really like learning languages. It's really charming to learn to communicate with people that you never would be able to talk to otherwise, ya know?" I rambled, looking over at her soft smile. I'd never seen her look like that, even at lunch with her two Heathers and a Veronica.

"Can you say something in French?" She asked.

I hesitated, thinking. I looked into her eyes, soft and sparkling and the pale blue I fell for years ago. "Uhhh, je pense que tu es vraiment cool et je pourrais être amoureux de toi."

(Translation: I think you're really cool and I might be in love with you.)

"What does that mean?" She asked, ruby red lips curling into a smile. I never thought I would fall for her all over again but today was really nice. We got deep, talking about her family pressures and how she wishes she had siblings, and even talked about how I could help her dye her hair an ombre red. And I was stupidly in love all over again.

"Secret." I whispered, grinning and glancing down to her lips for a split second. She leaned in, and I could smell how she smelled of cherries and hairspray, and my eyes fluttered closed.

But we were interrupted by the bell, right before we touched. We jumped back, shocked. I scooted away after she did, grabbing my bag. That was the last bell of the day, and it was time to go home. 

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-" I started, before she cut me off by pressing a finger to my lips.

"No, it was mutual. I would... I don't wanna rush into anything, but today was cool. Friends?" She offered. I smiled, nodding awkwardly and combing my fingers through my sky blue hair.

"Yeah, totally." I added.

She took out her red scrunchie, holding her hair in a wavy ponytail and rolled it onto my wrist without a second thought.

"What?" I asked.

"I want you to have that. As a... symbol of a newfound friendship." She said, turning to leave.

"Wait! I have something for you too!" I called out, digging in my bag for extra fake nose ring. A friend of mine wanted me to get her one so I bought an extra, so this was perfect.

"It's fake, but I want you to have it. I'll see you around." I told her, pressing it into her hand. She grinned, curling her long fingers around it and stuffing it into the pocket of her skirt.

She left without a word, and I knew that I should probably head out too, go home on my motorcycle and obsess over today's events, but I was frozen for a minute. 

Yep, I was definitely into that girl.

(1240 words)