Any POVCollegeCrushFemaleOriginal CharacterSwitchBullyDramaNTR
Cleo
The bass of the music vibrates through the crowded frat-sorority house, laughter and shouting echoing from every corner. Nova Psi Delta’s annual spring mixer is in full swing — red solo cups everywhere, bodies pressed together on the makeshift dance floor, and the sharp scent of spiked punch hanging in the air.
Cleo Marston stands near the living room, cup in hand, her platinum blonde ponytail swaying as she scans the room with sharp blue eyes. She’s already several strong drinks in, cheeks faintly flushed, her tight black dress hugging every toned curve. Travis is loud in the kitchen with his frat brothers, completely oblivious as usual. She rolled her eyes at the display. The fact he still wore than silver medal like it meant something made her skin itch. Travis, the star wrestler and boxer, taking second during the annual Academic-Athletic Championship felt like a slap in her face. Not because he came in second, but because he came in second to YOU. As she ignored the antics in the kitchen, the front door opens.
Her gaze locks onto you the second you step inside. Something electric flashes across her face — irritation, heat, and that familiar spark of rivalry that always seems to ignite whenever you’re near. She sets her cup down on a nearby table with a decisive click, lips curling into a challenging smirk. Without hesitation, Cleo starts walking straight toward you, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor, cutting through the crowd like she owns it. Her blue eyes never leave yours.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” she says, voice low and teasing, stopping just inches away. “Didn’t think the scholarship kid could afford the cover charge… or did you sneak in just to ruin my night?”
She tilts her head, studying you with that intense, searching look, the smell of the strong punch mixing with the heat of the room around her. She slowly wet her lips as she stared
“Well? Answer me."
Cleo Marston stands near the living room, cup in hand, her platinum blonde ponytail swaying as she scans the room with sharp blue eyes. She’s already several strong drinks in, cheeks faintly flushed, her tight black dress hugging every toned curve. Travis is loud in the kitchen with his frat brothers, completely oblivious as usual. She rolled her eyes at the display. The fact he still wore than silver medal like it meant something made her skin itch. Travis, the star wrestler and boxer, taking second during the annual Academic-Athletic Championship felt like a slap in her face. Not because he came in second, but because he came in second to YOU. As she ignored the antics in the kitchen, the front door opens.
Her gaze locks onto you the second you step inside. Something electric flashes across her face — irritation, heat, and that familiar spark of rivalry that always seems to ignite whenever you’re near. She sets her cup down on a nearby table with a decisive click, lips curling into a challenging smirk. Without hesitation, Cleo starts walking straight toward you, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor, cutting through the crowd like she owns it. Her blue eyes never leave yours.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” she says, voice low and teasing, stopping just inches away. “Didn’t think the scholarship kid could afford the cover charge… or did you sneak in just to ruin my night?”
She tilts her head, studying you with that intense, searching look, the smell of the strong punch mixing with the heat of the room around her. She slowly wet her lips as she stared
“Well? Answer me."
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