𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝚒𝚛 [ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐⁿᵒᵗᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ*ff]

Chapter 0.1 - so maybe im not okay

Hi guys, so I recently started writing on A03 (as it seems there's a bigger audience there for mcyt) and I well, I made a smut book. Yes, this is smut with plot - i promise there is plot.

So, leave now if you don't want that, but I'm re uploading it here bc it's my work and I like my Wattpad account too :) also I can do italics here to cause more pain-

I said this on A03, but I'll say it again:
I DO NOT SHIP THEM IRL! I'm taking their online personas and shoving it into my bad story idea. Pls don't ship creators irl, dream and George said they are fine with fan fiction but if any of their views change I'll happily take it down!

Book summary:
Dream is a college Professor, the strictest there is. Everyone fears him, from the arts department to science, his name is whispered in hush tones. Respect and authority. That was what he commanded.
George, however, was a softie. Quiet boy from a local orphanage who dreams of a better life. The usual sob story, except one embarrassing secret that could ruin his school life. Undetected and hardworking. All he wants is to grow up.
That was, until George's life unravels and homework isn't exactly priority anymore. Looks like little Georgy needs to find another way to pass Computer Science...
Maybe talking to his scary Professor after could could help?

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This time, Phil was going to kill him.

George grimaced at the time shown on his phone screen, large water droplets warping the numbers shown. It was just past 9pm, and George had promised he'd be back as soon as his class had finished... which was lunch time. The puddles in the ground shook and splashed up his pant legs as he ran through them, socks positively soggy.

The lights at the end of the road warmly lit up the big, Victorian building in some sort of glory. To be fair, the building was crumbling at the foundations and as much as the boy wanted to hate the sight; it was his home.

Bracing himself with scrunched eyebrows, he opened the large front doors. There was no point trying to be quiet, the shuddering screech couldn't be silence no matter what and the whole building knew he was home. "George." Phil emerged from the dimmed hallway to his right, a small boy hiding behind his legs. George glances at the blond boy rubbing his eyes with the usual grin on his face. But Phil didn't look happy.

"I'm sorry," George cut in before he could say anything else, "It won't happen again! I got caught up in the library and Mrs. Canon asked me to run for errands... for a little extra money."

Phils lips creased, "she's paying you, again?"

"No!" He was quick to defend himself. "I had to travel to the old storage to retrieve things, the money was to cover the bus ride!" He sighed. George didn't like it when he sighed. "I'll stop offering to help, I promise! It's just the money-"

"You don't need the fucking money!" Phil really wasn't happy. "George, this is your family. You live here. And until your old enough to leave, I'm the one who supports you. Understand?"

"Well, yes but-"

"No. You don't need to work anymore jobs. I asked you to baby sit for me, and you didn't come home." Tommy sunk, dragging his feet over to where George was cornered. "You left me alone, with the kids for hours. No one works on a Tuesday, you know that."

George's eyes fell to the little boy beside him, lost for words. Phil did everything, for everyone. "I'm sorry. I won't go there anymore."

The man nodded, leaning forward to grab the slumping child's hands,

"Tommy, go get ready for bed."

"What?! But gogy is back-"

"Go."

Tommy left. And the silence of the building hung ominously. "They miss you. You never play with them anymore."

"I know."

Phil finally looked back at George, his eyes heavy and stern with exhaustion. "The school board made a decision. I'm the next Principal." They both knew what this meant. Phil ran the orphanage, but before that he was a college professor. Sure, he only taught morning classes so he could be home to pick up the kids, but he was good at his job; too good. It's was what he enjoyed, so he stuck doing both. But now, it was different. He wouldn't have time for both.

"You'll be working 9-7, like normal teachers?" George hummed, fiddling with the cold zipper on his hoodie.

"No," the pause was deafening ,"it'll more be like 8-8. I won't be home for their bedtimes."

George nodded, re adjusting his bag and heading for the stairs.

"I'll need you home for 4pm, every night." Phil's voice was hard now. "You'll have to do everything I did, George. Your the older east here, by a lot... I'm counting on you."

He didn't look back and he ascended up the stairs, straight to his room to change into warming clothes. There wasn't time for a shower, the mountains of homework had been piling on his desk for days. And now it looked like it wouldn't stop.

A lump formed in his throat, the guilt rising in him. With a swift hand, he grabbed a pen and started scribbling. There wasn't time to think about the family. Phil did everything, and now he had to. So before the panic, no hopelessness, kicked in the next morning, he had to catch up with school work. Tonight, there wasn't time for the family.

And starting tomorrow, there wouldn't be time for himself.

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I don't usually do so many author notes but-

THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT BOOK - BUT I MY NEW BOOK IS WRITTEN BETTER AND SO MUCH MORE KINKY- I MEAN SUPER COOL ENEMIES TO LOVERS SO GO CHECK OUT KAKORRHAIPHOBIA OR WHATEVER ITS GR8 OK COOL