Kinktober 2024

【 𝐵𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 】

〖 𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒 〗: 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑡 𝐵𝑜𝑦 & 𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙

〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: There's just something about a sticky frat floor, a red solo cup, and a girl who wants nothing to do with him

〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, steve's pov, allusions to domestic violence, protective!steve, fingering, cunnilingus, steve cums in his pants

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The lawn outside of Steve's frat was packed with students, some wearing letters and others not. Music pulsed through the air, vibrating the walls. Steve parked himself on the porch of the frat, surveying the lawn like a king watching over his kingdom. Perhaps, King Steve had made his return after all.

He moved to the inside of the frat and made his way through the crowd. A few of his brothers grabbed his shoulder as he passed, and he chuckled as they attempted to catch the attention of their conquest for the night.

Steve leaned casually against one of the walls and nursed one of the drinks his brothers handed him. His hair was perfectly tousled, as always, and he resisted the urge to run a hand through it. He scanned the crowd, watching as various partygoers laughed or sang along to the music that drifted throughout the house.

He wasn't really paying attention to them, though. He was focused on you.

He'd been watching you longer than he would've liked to admit. You were known for your poise and leadership as president of your sorority, known for its squeaky-clean reputation. You made sure of that.

He kept his eyes glued to your form as you slowly navigated your way through the crowd, smiling brightly as you held your cup delicately in your hand. There was something in the way you carried yourself that drew him in. You weren't like the others who fell over themselves to be near him, hanging onto every word that passed his lips simply because he was Steve Harrington. No, you were different. You didn't care whether he lived or died, and you consumed his every waking thought.

One of the members of his frat caught your arm as you passed, pulling you into a conversation. The boy was stupid enough to break up with you, and it looked like he came groveling for you to take him back. An awkward laugh graced your lips as the idiot said something, and something alighted like a hot coal in Steve's stomach as he watched the boy lean down to press his lips against the shell of your ear, attempting to talk over the music.

Your ex threw a thumb over his shoulder and you nodded. He placed a hand on your lower back as you led him through the crowd, and Steve scowled into his drink, the plastic crinkling under his fingertips from his grip.

He pushed himself off the wall and followed the two of you, not daring to let you out of his sight. He ran a hand through his hair as you led your ex up the stairs, looking behind you every few steps to say something. He was more focused on staring at your ass as you walked than the words coming out of your mouth. Steve wondered if that would be enough of an excuse to punch your ex's lights out.

Steve climbed the stairs, dreading what he'd find once he reached the top. You weren't typically the type to sleep with someone at a party, but unease settled within him nonetheless. He was no stranger to the things the two of you got up to in the middle of the night, and he didn't want to hear those noises coming out of you unless he was the one causing them.

He walked slowly through the hall once he reached the landing, and he attempted to ignore the moans from various rooms. The music was slightly more muffled at the top of the stairs, and his ears strained to hear the familiar melody of your voice.