A request from anon
Pairings Poppy x MC
Warning: Smut
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Zoe, oh Zoe. When will you stop getting me into trouble? Now, I have Poppy pinned against her door, but let's go back to where it all began.
"I can't believe her, I swear," I grumble, rolling my eyes as I apply my new strawberry-flavored lip gloss.
Zoe, beside me, shrugs while carefully applying her mascara. "I don't know, love. Poppy's... very capable."
It's been two days since Poppy managed to turn half the school against me. Unfortunately, she succeeded. I've tried so hard to fit in, to win a stupid crown that doesn't even matter, and now I'm left to face the consequences.
I sigh, and Zoe eyes me up and down thoughtfully.
"Should I be worried? You look skeptical," I ask, raising a brow.
Zoe lets out a soft laugh, her enthusiasm already bubbling through. "Girl, I'm done with this power play. Go confront her."
My eyes widen, and I gasp. "Are you crazy? That's actual suicide!"
Zoe laughs even harder, and I roll my eyes again. "She likes you, ugh. Isn't it obvious?"
I laugh too, at the ridiculous notion of Poppy Min-Sinclair liking me. It's absurd.
"You've officially lost your mind, Zo."
"Oh, cooome on! You're all she focuses on. I'm not saying what she's doing is right, but have you seen the way she looks at you?"
Have I? All I've noticed is her cruel way of pushing me aside, her snide comments about my hometown. Could this be a mask? What's hidden behind that ice-cold heart? Ugh, who am I kidding? She's just a bitch.
"You have nothing to lose," Zoe insists, giving me a playful nudge. "And if she does like you, well... congratulations, Your Majesty. There's your crown."
I giggle despite myself, already plotting my "suicidal" plan. "If I'm not back in an hour, call the police," I manage to say before walking out of the room.
"Get the girl, Bea!" Zoe calls after me.
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I wander through the girls' dorm, searching for Poppy's room. Benji's no help, of course—Miss Queen B wouldn't trust him with directions. Finally, I reach the end of the hall and spot two giant pink doors. Of course, this must be hers. Who else would be so extra?
Should I knock? What would I even say? For months, we've acted like siblings fighting over the last piece of chocolate. Ugh. I should leave—there's no way I'm begging Miss Bitch—
"My, my. What are you doing here? I expected Veronica, not your cheap-looking—"
"Hello to you too," I interrupt, brushing past her into the room. Wow. Is that a chandelier? I take in her chic, expensive taste, confirming what everyone already knows: she's filthy rich. Yet somehow, I'm still impressed.
"You have ten seconds to get out," she snaps, her frustration evident. "I don't want your filthy hands touching anything in here!"
I cross my arms, holding her gaze. "We need to talk, Poppy."
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and I swear I see a flicker of nervousness. Did I just make her uneasy? Score.
"There's nothing to talk about, newbie," she sneers. "Go back to your trash can or whatever hole you crawl out of."
Her posture radiates power and control, but she's like a ticking bomb. I smirk as I step toward the door, then pause inches from her.
"Why are you so obsessed with me?" I breathe, adding a cheeky wink for good measure.
Poppy freezes, her breathing noticeably quickening. "You take one more step, and I'll chew you up and spit you out," she says, voice low.
"Was that a threat or a promise?" I reply with a smirk, now noticing how vulnerable she looks up close. Without her usual layers of makeup and designer outfits, her natural beauty is disarming. She looks so... human.
"What the hell are you staring at, Hughes? I said lea—"
I don't let her finish. Instead, I close the door and pin her against it. Poppy gasps, shoving me back slightly, but when she grips my blouse, it's not to push me away.
Her lips crash into mine, tongues clashing in a heated dance for dominance. My hands find her waist, eliciting a low moan that makes me smirk.
I trail kisses down her jaw to her neck, finding the sensitive spot just below her ear. She gasps as I nip at it, her breath hitching.
"I didn't know you wanted me this badly," I whisper, biting her earlobe gently.
"Shut up and kiss me," she commands, and I happily oblige.
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Our fiery exchange continues, bodies and emotions entangled as years of tension melt into passion. For the first time, I see through her icy walls and realize that behind every insult, every power play, was a girl struggling to guard her heart.
By the end of it, we're both breathless. As she fixes her blouse, her cheeks flushed and eyes still dazed, she levels me with a warning glare.
"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," she says, voice back to its cold, commanding tone.
"Of course not, Your Majesty," I tease, earning a small, genuine laugh from her.
"Get lost, Bea."
I gasp dramatically. "You said my name!"
"Ugh, leave, Hughes!"
As I walk back to my room, a grin spreads across my face. Grabbing my phone, I shoot a text to Zoe:
"You won't believe what just happened, Zo."
For once, I feel like I've won.