did this in one sitting to avoid doing my hw (due today march 3) , now what if I write a 3way for the first time (today is March 24 and Iâm still avoiding hw like usual)(I did hw May 12)
desc: cheating ex x enemy frat leader x female reader, cheater ex is a frat leader and so is his enemy, stirring up some drama when all 3 of you attend a party, and you meet his arch nemesis after getting in a fight with your boyfriend/ex.
âSeriously? Youâre bringing this up again?â
A male voice lets out a breath of frustration, the two of you were arguing, in an environment that practically mocked the two of you. The lively room flashing pink, blue, and more warped colors on your face just like it did with the others. You attended this party to supervise your boyfriend, you never thought youâd be one of those girls ditching their study group sessions to make sure he didnât cheat on you again.
This was pathetic, watching over him as if he wouldnât flirt with a girl right as soon as your back was turned.
âSheâs just a friend, youâre getting so defensive over nothinââ His spiked punch breath fanned your ear, he had to speak close or else you wouldnât hear a word.
âYeah? I didnât realize friends grab each other by the face, really funny how Iâve never seen this girl on campus beforeâ You shove him, an aggressive action that attracts a few stares. âAt least tell the truth, quit lyingâ
âCmon, donât get mad again, you know they donât mean anythingâ His delicate lips form into a frown, his stupid pretty face, you hated how attractive he was. One of the things that reeled you back in, his sweet and cunning words convincing you to stay. You swore up and down this wouldnât happen again. Youâre just letting your dignity tumble down more stairs than you intended it to.
âWhateverâ You scoff, snapping at his hands to stay far away from you, storming off to another section of this ridiculously large mansion. In one of the dining rooms, you find the bowl of punch youâve been seeing in everyoneâs cups, helping yourself to a good amount.
The pink-reddish liquid swirls down your throat. It burns like freshly formed lava. A few more cups, and you were ready to walk home, it cleared your head of any ideas that youâd go back to that sickeningly sweet boy who just happened to also terrorize your love life.
âHm, whatâs got that mouth of yours so thirsty for more punch?â Someone taps on your forehead, as if truly attempting to connect into what youâre stressing about. âDrama?â He adds on, a lifted tone settling on the end of his word, itâs a question.
A question from a man that seemed too interested in what you had to say.
âNothing, just thirstyâ You grab your bag, bringing a cup with you as you navigate through the crowd, a path the tall stranger follows. âIâve heard about you yâknow, youâre that cute girl that hangs around that one frat leader right?â
âYeah⊠what about itâ You begrudgingly ask, hating to hear his name, it seemed like everyone knew he had you wrapped around his finger. âAnd, Iâm not with him anymoreâ You swiftly point out afterwards.
âReally?â Itâs a one word question that seems dangerous to answer, as if this was a new opportunity for him. âThatâs unfortunate, but I get it, you were too good for him huh?â He lifts you up from the underside of your arms for a moment, bringing you back a step.
âGotta be careful, some people canât handle their alcoholâ He whispers in your ear from behind, you look up, seeing someone regurgitating the toxic waste nicknamed fruit punch right where you stood moments ago. âThank youâ This time you let him guide you through the crowd.
âAnd yeah, itâs true, Iâm too good for an asshole like himâ You bitterly mumble, your cold words matching the air that leaves your lips. It was freezing tonight, and thankfully the cups of liquid sugar and alcohol warmed up your blood. âWho are you anyways? A reporterâ You chuckle at your own joke, looking up at him for the first time.
Your eyes shimmering with recognization once trailing his figure up and down. âI know- youâre that one guyâ You tipsily say, trying to think of where youâve seen him.
âHah- great description, you sure you know me?â He smiles, dimples still visible in the darkness, street lights doing well to illuminate his sharp features. âItâs alright if you donât remember, weâve only met once before, and ironically it was when you broke up a fightâ
A fight? You hardly get into the scuffles your boyfriend has, usually itâs on the field or when he encounters a rival frat leader. You think the immense pride he carries in his group is so idiotic, especially when it can affect his college grades. Too busy partying tâ
âHey, silly, Iâm talking to youâ His sandy colored hair moved out the way when he leaned in, he was tapping on your forehead again.
âI got lost in thoughtâ You grab onto your head, a hushed apology leaving your lips before you continued. âDid you ever get in a fight with my boyfriend? Maybe I was there for itâ Your pupils race back and forth to track his gaze.
âBingo, you have a good memoryâ He ruffles your hair, heâs quick to flatten it back down before you can even try and make it presentable. âSo, I wanted to properly introduce myself, and it looked like you were leaving without a rideâ He guides you with his hand on the small of your back.
His car mirroring the moonlight on every curve and expensive part added on top of the already high price model and make.
âArenât you drunk too?â You frown, unsure if youâd want for him to take you home, you wonder what your boyfriend would say. Or soon to be ex, whatever he wasâŠ
âUnfortunately for me, my stomach has richer taste in alcohol and I prefer not to ruin my diet with shitty liquor. But, luckily for you, that means I can drive you homeâ He smiles, and you squint in response, unsure if you should trust him or not.
âHere, type in your addressâ He hands over his phone, letting you scroll through his phone to find his gps app. âIâm gonna head to the gas station first if thatâs alrightâ He adds on, staring at his gas levels.
He steps off to pay cash inside while you wait in the locked car, something he emphasized for you to do, only unlock it when heâs back. Youâre confused on why he was acting like you were his winning lottery ticket, surely he was up to something, right?
You see a message pop up, it looks like this frat leader was also a popular receiver of risquĂ© pictures. You sigh, swiping the notification away, just to receive another, the second one is the one he notices. âDonât mind those, theyâre just randoms with nothing better to doâ He silences his phone, still allowing you to have it.
This type of luxury is something you donât receive from your relationship, a guy handing off his phone like nothing? As if there wasnât anything to hide? Itâs possible for a complete stranger to let a girl go through his phone but your boyfriend doesnât let you even have his password?
His simple approach to everything seems too honest and straightforward, it spirals your drunk little mind on why your boyfriend canât act like this.
âI got you a water but youâre looking a little sad, you want a snack?â He offers the crisp looking water, digging in his pockets for one of those protein snack bars he keeps on him. âI think I got a bar somewhereâ He mumbles, searching his car.
âItâs okay.. I ate something before the partyâ You shake your head, opening the water bottle to drink. After gulping down the fresh liquid, you feel your phone ding, and ding⊠with a couple of more after that. You sleepily run your fingers through your hair with a long sigh, reading the messages.
âWhere are you? Did you already leave?â
âare you mad? donât do this shit again, you know I hate when you make such a big fussâ
Youâre livid at his audacity, even while witnessing it for the past couple of months. You turn off your phone, deciding to ignore his messages, hopefully heâd think something happened to you so heâd understand leaving his drunk girlfriend alone was incredibly dangerous.
He stops glancing at your phone once the light dims down, his soft brown eyes back on the road, eyeing the gps for any upcoming turns. âYou know.. I heard some stuff about your boyfriendâ
âExâ You stubbornly say, trying to cut off any ties with him, at least for tonight.
âWell, your ex, heâs a cheater isnât he? Why do you stay with him?â He pokes and prods, a few you answer and a few you donât.
Your phone rings when your lips part to answer a new question, you look at the bright screen, reading his name at the top while another messages appears.
âAre you kidding? I left the party cause I canât fucking find you.â
âDid you go walking?â
âYouâre so fucking pettyâ
âThis one is my houseâ You sit up, pointing at the front of your house. He pulls up in the driveway, setting the car in park. âYou sure youâre good to go home? Parents wonât get mad or nothing?â
âIâm a college student, being drunk happens all the timeâ You shrug, brushing it off, you need this feeling to be nothing, or else youâll start tearing up about him cheating on you again.
He nods, making sure you entered before pulling out the driveway and speeding off, his expensive modifications making his car audible until he turned the street.
The entire night you silently cry in bed, letting your tears uncomfortably run down the sides of your face.
The next morning with puffy eyes you head downstairs, creating a makeshift cold compress, a ziplock of ice and water. A quick session of this calmed down the redness, the puffiness around your eyes would more than likely wear off by late morning.
You open your phone, seeing the 40+ messages coming from your ex, you roll your eyes, knowing that if he truly cared he wouldâve been knocking at your door by now.
âIâm sorry I was an asshole, Iâm just drunkâ
âWhat street are you on? Iâll just pick you up, please donât walk babyâ
More frantic messages appeared on the thread, but you scroll past, closing the conversation once you felt like you read enough.
You get dressed up for your morning college class, decorating your hair a little more to your liking, adding two bows that matched the lace of your pink shirt. Youâd rather look your best while firmly cutting ties with your boyfriend rather than look a mess doing so.
A strong hand guides you into their grasp, one you recall after a couple of seconds.
âHey, where are you headed? You look so cuteâ He softly compliments, a question and an admiring remark? If your ex had said the same words, it would have an entirely different tone.
âTo class, why?â You look up, your long eyelashes batting to fight the sun rays above his head.
âJust wondering, how did you sleep? I hope that spiked punch didnât do too much of a number on youâ He leans in, covering as many rays as he could with his towering height.
And just when you were about to answer, a familiar huskier voice answer. âWhat did a number on her? Are you bothering my girlfriend?â Your ex barges in on the conversation, not caring for the context.
âYour girlfriend? I think that titles changed nowâ He snorts, finding it hilarious that your ex had the audacity to charge towards him.
âThe fuck are you on about? Just stay away from her, you know I fucking hate your gutsâ He aggressively pokes his chest, tempted to wipe that smile off his face with a simple yet unexpected left hook.
âWeâre not together anymore, did you forget what happened yesterday?â You softly speak, trying to keep the conversation to an all time low.
âNo, I mustâve forgotten when you broke up with me, unless you just didnât say anything again and expect me to let it happen?â He tugs on your wrist, luring you away from his enemy. âDonât do this at school, we can talk about this after classâ His rough voice whispers in your ear, a desperate attempt wanting you to listen.
Do you even want to listen to him..?
