DIRTY LITTLE SECRET !
. . . IN WHICH, you catch the outcast and the popular girl in the closet - and now you’re roped into whatever the fuck they have going on.
𓏴 pairing: rodrick heffley ! inspired guy x gn reader x regina george ! inspired girl (tbf, it's mostly the outcast!boy x mean!queenbee girl though)
𓏴 contents warning: not proofread; purposely everything in low caps; smoking references; lowk toxic relationship; secret relationships; suggestive situations (non-explicit); mild profanity
𓏴 word count: 1.2k
𓏴 author’s note: the rodrick heffley x regina george edits got me. apologies if there’s mistakes, english isn’t my first language.
[ pt. 2 ] [ pt. 3 ]
outcast!boy who is the kind of guy who teachers dread when hearing they’ll be handling him this school year. he’s constantly in trouble, always getting scolded, and a detention regular.
most people avoid him, besides his usual friend group, and those who do are usually just desperate for a joint, or looking for someone to sneak them into a party.
he slouches in the back of the classroom, boots kicked out, smelling faintly of cigarettes and musky cheap cologne.
most people keep their distance. but they still stare. because, as much as he’s a trouble-maker, most won’t deny the fact that outcast!boy is hot. messy hair, lazy smirk, smudged eyeliner - even the way he talks, his low drawl, slow way of speaking, as if he’s constantly high or just trying to piss someone off.
mean!queenbee is the exact opposite.
she’s got everything — popularity, money, body, face. her hair’s perfect, clothes perfects, smile perfect (despite how often it comes off as too sharp - at least to those who have that smile targetted at them).
girls want to be her, copy her, orbit around her like flies. guys practically line the hallway with hopeful glances whenever she walked past.
her image is perfect - simply put, the word to describe her, or what she appears to be, is perfect.
and just like outcast!boy…the whole school wants her too, only less secretly. most wouldn’t be ashamed to admit wanting to be with her.
she’s beautiful in a way that’s untouchable. dangerous. like a lioness, only with less fur.
to most people, they’re polar opposites.
whenever they cross paths, mean!queenbee looks down on outcast!boy as if he was a sewer rat. and the moment he opens his mouth, she looks seconds away from ripping his head off. their arguments are sharp, loud, full of eye rolls, teasing smirks, and biting insults. words thrown around that’d make most cry.
it’s quite a known fact in school that they hate each other.
but unknown to everyone, whenever the eyes that always watch them so closely look away . . .
they’re out late at night, sharing greasy takeout in outcast!boy’s beat up car, still slightly sweaty from what they just did inside it,
they’re sprawled in his garage couch together, arguing over music, while she’s drowning in his hoody,
they’re pressed close together in an empty, tight closet in school where nobody’s supposed to be,
they’re on her bed, mean!queenbee on his lap as she’s trying to test if the new lipsticks she bought were transfer-proof, while outcast!boy’s dizzy from all the kisses . . .
no, they’re not dating.
but they’re definitely . . . something.
mean!queenbee insists they stay a secret. her reputation was something she’s perfected over the years. how would people react if they found out she’s . . . she has something going on with a weirdo like outcast!boy? being seen with him — being with him of all people — would shatter the perfect, untouchable illusion she’s curated.
outcast!boy, on the other hand?
he loves it. loves the secrecy, the thrill, the adrenaline pumping in his veins whenever they’re ducking behind doors and empty rooms. loves the way her ears turn red as he shoots her a knowing smirk as she’s trying to cover a hickey he left. loves whispering filth in her hear whenever footsteps pass too close.
“relax,” he’d murmur, “you’re the one who wanted it secret. but still so needy, hm?” he grinned crookedly.
. . . it drives her insane, but mean!queenbee won’t deny the truth in his words and actions - she can feel the excitement rub on her, too.
. . . damn, is she hanging around outcast!boy too much that she’s starting to think like him?
then there’s…you.
a normal student. a wallflower.
you happen to sit next to outcast!boy in class (whenever he actually decides to show up, at least). which isn’t often but, when he does, he drops into the seat beside you, leisurely, casually, as if he belongs there, as if he’s always sat there. . . . you can count on your two hands how many times he’s actually attended the class.
and maybe it’s obvious.
but you kind of like him.
he’s hot.
he smells good; of smoke and something warm and musky.
and every time he leans over your shared desk, invading your personal space, to ask to borrow a pencil — cause he never brings his own bag to school (even if he did, it’d only be filled with…whatever he deals new students with) — he whispers his request right into your ear.
“thanks, sweetheart.” his husky voice would whisper, or “you’re my favorite seatmate, ya know?” he’d grin teasingly.
and your face would never fail to heat up, flushing your cheeks a darker shade. and outcast!boy notices. he always does.
which brings you to here - the gym.
physical ed. was your last class, and your teacher asked you to return some equipment to the closet. the farthest one, the closet in the corner.
you didn’t mind. you’d always been obedient. and it’s not like you got much going on - a simple student you were, really.
so, you grabbed what your teacher wanted you to return as they left, promising to turn off the lights on your way out, too.
you walk through the quiet gym, reaching the closet, and fail to hear the barely contained noises inside as you push the door open without thinking.
and freeze.
because outcast!boy is there.
standing right between mean!queenbees legs, where she’s perched on a stack of mats - her perfectly styled hair slightly messy, lipsticks smudged and matching the faint color on outcast!boys lips, and his hands braced on either side of her.
they’re very close. close enough that it’s obvious you just interrupted something.
your brain-short circuits, and everything is quiet.
for a second, nobody moves -
before panic kicks in, and you bolt, dropping the equipment your teacher asked you to bring there.
behind you, mean!queenbee shoves outcast!boy away, panic and horror on her usually bitchy, confident face.
“are you kidding me?! fuck!” she hisses. outcast!boy just laughs, loud, completely unbothered as he stumbles back.
“stop laughing!” she snaps, grabbing his already wrinkled collar, “they saw us!”
he only shrugs, grin widening. “told ya doll, someone was gonna catch us eventually.”
mean!queenbee groans in frustration and shoves him back, and he could only watch, amused, as she sets on fixing her messy clothes.
“fix it.” outcast!boy’s tilts his head, meeting mean!queenbee’s heated glare.
“chill, doll. the one who caught us ‘s jus’ a quiet kid, no one’s gonna believe ‘em anyway.”
“fix it,” she repeats, voice ice cold “go talk to them.”
“doll—” she cut him off, “or i’m not entertaining you for a week.”
. . . a defeated sigh left outcast!boy then. “sigh, fine . . .”
he hums thoughtfully, running a hand through his messy hair. then his grin sharpens.
this’ll be interesting, he thought. honestly? he’s kind of curious what’s gonna happen, now that someone knows his and mean!queenbee’s secret.
because outcast!boy knows exactly who you are. the kid he sits next to in some random class he couldn’t give two fucks about. the one who blushes whenever he leans close. the one who lends him pencils and pens and erasers cause he couldn't be bothered to bring his own.
and it just so happens that he remembers that he’ll be sitting next to you tomorrow morning.
© jusfneo
𓏴 p.s. please be nice, this is my first post :( english isn’t my first language, so apologies if there are any errors. please tell me if there are any mistakes!