This fic is inspired by @nerdy-twin post.
Pairings Poppy x MC
Warning: Smut
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My, my, did I hear right? My sources have been buzzing all day about the hilarious fights between Queen Bee and our new starlet.
Newbee proved from day one that she isn't one to be messed with—but don't let her charms blind you. Yesterday, Chlo—oops, I mean Poppy's—dog got humiliated right in front of our eyes, loves. So grab your snacks because this semester is shaping up to be a long one, isn't it, Bea?
Kisses, The T
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Oh, great. Another post from The T, and now everyone is staring at me again. Why does anyone even care about this stupid blog? It's so irrelevant and so—
"Oh my God, Bea!!" Zoe practically flies toward me, bouncing with excitement.
"Whoa, slow down. What happened?" Seriously, she can't even catch her breath.
"Girl, you're top 15 material now!!" she exclaims, shoving her phone in my face. I gasp. Alright, maybe I do love this blog.
Everyone around me starts whispering, and then, like a domino effect, cheers erupt from every direction of the pathway.
"Woooo! B-E-A! B-E-A!" They're chanting my name, and I bow dramatically, laughing at my sweet victory. I can't wait to wipe that smug smirk off Poppy's face.
Everything screeches to a halt when I hear slow, deliberate clapping behind me. Aaaand there she is.
"Congratulations," Poppy sneers. "You managed to climb past the emo wannabes and the bimbos."
"Big words coming from a bitch like you," I snap back. It feels like a scene from a movie because the crowd collectively gasps, unsure how to react. Poppy stares at me long enough to make me feel a little nervous.
"Listen here, you ugly, pathetic idiot—"
"That's not what you told me last night," I interrupt, my smirk practically glowing with pride. The collective gasp this time is deafening. Zoe tries to stifle her giggles because, oh, she knows allll about it. Meanwhile, Miss Regina George over here has gone a full shade of pink.
"I would never—not in a million years—touch someone as cheap as you. Chloe, go fetch me a latte. Ta-ta, garbage." She struts away just like that.
"Wow, you really have an effect on her," Zoe says, coming up behind me laughing. I roll my eyes, brushing off yet another stupid fight.
"Do you want to watch a movie and eat our feelings?"
"Girl, you know me so well."
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Later that night…
"Okay, but do you want to watch Mean Girls or the finale of Gossip Girl?" I ask, scrolling through Netflix.
"Bea, this school is the definition of Gossip Girl. And don't get me started on Mean Girls—Poppy is—"
A knock interrupts her rant.
"It must be Penelope. I invited her," Zoe yells from the kitchen, pouring us both glasses of wine. But when I open the door, it's not Penelope. It's my dear enemy.
"What can I do for you?" I ask, smirking.
"For starters, buy better clothes. That shirt is hideous," she snarks, gesturing at my Deadpool tee. Excuse me? How dare she.
"If I wanted to deal with your attitude, I'd have—oh, wait! Yes, I forgot. You stalk me, so you're always in my way."
"Agh, can you just stop talking?"
I roll my eyes so hard my brain might actually hurt. What the school doesn't know is that our real fights happen behind closed doors. Shocking, right? Believe me, I was surprised too. But here I am, kind of… liking Poppy? Ugh. I must have hit rock bottom.
"Goodnight, boo," I say, slamming the door in her face and returning to my wine and gossip with Zoe.
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The next day…
"I'll see you after class. Those new burritos are to die for," Zoe says, kissing my cheek goodbye. God, I love this woman.
I walk freely across the nearly empty campus. One thing I love about Mondays is the rare chance to have a few minutes to myself. But just as I'm collecting my thoughts, I find myself pinned against a wall.
"Never do that again," Poppy hisses, pointing her finger at my chest.
I gasp at the surprise, and she looks amused.
"Do what exactly? Exist?"
She rolls her eyes, though I catch the faintest hint of a smile. "No one slams the door on me, Newbee." She pokes me once.
"Oh, please. You're always being an asshole."
"Listen here, just because I let you kiss me once doesn't mean anything. You're still garbage to me—and you always will be." Another poke.
Before she can jab me again, I grab her hand and lock eyes with her.
"No, you listen, Poppy. I'm tired of your manipulative games. You're the most awful person I've ever met!" I'm glad the campus is empty. If anyone were around, this would definitely end up on The T.
"Oh, please, Hughes. You act tough, but you're not. Maybe you were someone important back in Pig Town, but here? You're just another pawn." Her glare could melt steel.
The tension between us is so thick it's suffocating. So I do what any logical person would do: I lean in and kiss her.
At first, she freezes, a surprised sound escaping her lips. But then, her resolve melts, and her tongue tangles with mine.
I press her back against the wall, taking a quick glance to ensure we're still alone. I should be in Miss Kingsley's class right now, but oh, God, am I distracted.
Her hands slide up and around my neck, pulling me closer. Didn't I tell you? Deep down, beneath that icy exterior, Poppy really does like me.
"Am I tough now?" I ask, my lips ghosting over hers. Our breaths mingle, her cheeks flushed.
She swallows hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Not enough."
Her words light a fire in me. Effortlessly, I pin her hands above her head with one hand while my other roams down her waist to her thighs. Poppy always wears those signature mini skirts, and right now, they're doing nothing to help me resist her.
I dig my nails lightly into her skin, leaning in close. "I said, am I tough now?"
A soft moan escapes her lips, and I grin against her neck. I know exactly what drives her wild.
"Let me hear it," I demand, trailing kisses down to the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
"Yes, you are!" she finally gasps, her hands clutching onto me like I'm her lifeline.
My hand slips under her skirt, brushing against the heat of her center. She's so worked up it almost makes me laugh. But before we can take it further, the bell rings, loud and shrill, breaking the moment.
Ugh. Talk about a mood killer.
We quickly separate, straightening our clothes as students begin to fill the courtyard. Poppy's face is bright red, and I can only imagine what she's thinking. Smiling to myself, I watch her walk away without another word.
Then my phone buzzes. Of course—it's a notification from The T.
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Hello, loves,
Another day, another drama. My rising star has officially entered the top 10. I'm proud of you, girl! But don't get too comfortable—Miss Perfect always gets what she wants.
I love this drama, and Hughes is serving it up hot. Good luck, darling. You'll need it.
Kisses, The T
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I can't believe what I'm reading. Top 10? After only two months at this school, I've already outmaneuvered most of Poppy's tricks.
Zoe's scream breaks my train of thought as she rushes toward me. "I knew you had it in you!" she yells, spinning me around in a bear hug.
"Suck it, Poppy!" I shout, earning cheers from the surrounding students. It feels so good knowing people are finally on my side.
Then someone tugs on my arm. I turn to see Chloe, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. "So, you managed to reach the top 10," she says coolly.
"Oh, do you want an autograph? That's so sweet," I reply, smirking.
"Poppy's waiting for you behind the field," she says bluntly.
"And who says I'm going?" I laugh, but her expression doesn't waver.
"Listen, I don't have all day. Chanel is having—"
"Alright, dog. Good girl! You've earned a treat." I pat her on the head and stroll off toward what I can only assume is a death sentence.
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I'm sure Pops is mad at me. Maybe she likes me, but she's serious when it comes to her reputation. When I find Poppy, she's sitting alone, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "If you wanted a date, we could've arranged it," I tease, plopping down beside her.
Her expression is cold, distant, and honestly a little unsettling. I sigh, defeated. "Okay, what is it? Are you mad because I'm—"
"That list doesn't matter, Hughes," she interrupts sharply. "I could drag you down to the bottom in seconds if I wanted to."
Wow. Okay. Got it. That's not why she's upset.
"Then why send your dog to fetch me?" She rolls her eyes, visibly annoyed. I sigh again, trying to figure her out.
Sometimes, I can't help but notice the little things about her—the way her foot jiggles when she's anxious or the way she flips her hair when she's awkward. When we're alone, I see a completely different side of her.
"I hate how entitled you feel," she finally snaps, standing up. "Ever since you got here, all you've done is try to ruin me!" My blood boils as I stand to face her. "Excuse me? You attacked me the moment I set foot here!"
"That's because you can't keep your nose out of my business!" She steps closer, anger blazing in her eyes.
"Oh, give me a break. You've always been cruel. People are just now starting to see it." I step closer too, meeting her glare head-on.
"I run this school, Newbee. Like it or not, go back to your little town where you were important, because here? You're nothing," she spits out coldly, her voice dripping with venom. All I can do is stare at her, stunned. Her mask slips, falling away completely.
I can see it now—the worry in her eyes, the faint glimmer of regret. Her posture no longer radiates power; instead, she looks uncomfortable, almost vulnerable. Aw, are emotions new territory for her? How charming.
Without missing a beat, I kiss her, letting all the anger between us ignite into passion. "I hate you," I whisper, my lips trailing to her neck, desperately seeking every inch of bare skin to touch.
"I hate you more," she tries to say, but her voice falters as my hand slips beneath her skirt. I smile against her lips when I feel how wet she is.
"Did our fight turn you on?" I ask teasingly.
"More kissing, less talking," she demands, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. I push her against the wall, my hand finding its way to her center.
"Oh, Bea..." she whispers against my lips, and I take the opportunity to increase the pace, just to hear her moan. Only I get to see her like this—so vulnerable, so raw, so real.
With each stroke, her cries grow louder, my name falling from her lips like a mantra. Her nails dig into my back, and finally, her body trembles violently as she reaches her release. I hold her tight against me, steadying her.
Bringing my fingers to my lips, I lick them clean, never breaking eye contact. For a moment, neither of us speaks, caught in the intensity of what just happened. The silence stretches as we both seem to question the line we've just crossed.
I smile and reach for her hand, but she pulls away, her expression hardening.
Great—she's back to her bitchy mode.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" I ask, half-amused.
"I'll ruin your entire life, Hughes!" she yells, turning on her heel to storm off.
Well, that wasn't what she was saying seconds ago. Oh, wait—she was too busy screaming my name.
"And yes, you will!" she shouts over her shoulder. "Now go fuck yourself!"
I flip her off with a grin, watching her retreating figure.
That's how the rest of the semester went down. To the rest of the school, we were sworn enemies who couldn't stand each other's guts. But behind closed doors? Let's just say we turned all that hatred into something much... wilder.
Do I hate Poppy Min-Sinclair? Absolutely. But I have to admit, this woman knows her stuff. Enough to make me wonder just how many layers she's hiding underneath that sharp exterior.