Steve Harrington Costume Novels & Stories

She watched the host, Mr. Elias Harrington, from across the room. Tall and broad-shouldered, he cut an imposing figure in his tailored black suit, his mask a sleek affair of ebony feathers that shadowed his sharp jawline. Rumors whispered he was a man of ruthless business dealings, but to Ava, he was simply distant, his rare nods to her polite but cold.

Along with the facial hair, I’m dressed in the iconic red hat and suit, with a massive cushion sewn underneath the shirt so it looks like I’ve got a belly. ‘It is just a precautionary measure. Plan B, in case I encounter a situation that leaves me no choice but to wear the costume.’ I grumble back at Elliot. That’s when I see Harper being ridiculed and made fun of by her half-sister. I cannot help but stand up and stride towards the sleigh. ‘So is this a critical moment that requires you to wear the costume?’ he enquires innocently. ‘Yep.’ ________________________________

I muttered, my eyes scanning the crowd for the nearest exit. Humphrey nodded in agreement, and we left to where the pool bar was. It was empty with only the bartender there. Humphrey took off his hotdog costume and was left in his singlet and shorts. With that, he could easily blend in with others in the pool. I however wasn't dressed in anything covered enough, I couldn't take off my ketchup costume and I felt like I was going to suffocate. "Asher is such a bastard" Humphrey huffed and I held his hand.

And there he was, Steve, waiting for me outside the door with a grin on his face. My eyes met Steve's, who was standing with his arms crossed, emanating a confident aura. He was dressed impeccably in a black turtle neck shirt that emphasized his chiseled jawline, black torn jeans that hugged his muscular legs, and a black leather jacket that made him look edgy and stylish. It made my heart flutter, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. He greeted me with a warm "Hy, baby boy" and I nervously replied with a simple "Hi".

All safe. Steve had promised nothing. Now, alone, the mask had slipped. After his bath, he pulled on a white robe only to take it off again. He sat in a chair, hands raking through his hair repeatedly as his mind spun without landing on any real plan. He picked up his phone and stared at a photo of Ken—one he had taken earlier that day. Ken was in a worn gray hoodie, laughing at something off-camera, messy dark hair falling into his eyes. The image brought a small smile to Steve’s face after a brutal day.

"Sign the waiver, or we start the seizure of assets now." Henry Harrington Sr. didn’t look like a wolf. He didn't look like an Alpha. He looked like a man who spent his life in fluorescent-lit basements counting things that didn't belong to him. He stood in the middle of our foyer, his cheap suit smelling of stale coffee and industrial-grade air freshener. Behind him, six agents in tactical gear stood as still as statues. They all wore black, heavy-duty "Scent-Dampening" masks.

Is there a specific style you'd want us to incorporate? ‘I want her to look ethereal, like the goddess she is.' I was reading all of his texts in his voice, so my stomach was doing a backflip. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if he was saying those words because he thought I was a stranger. Of course, Stephen Harrington had to keep a profile in public, too. Even with a woman whom he might never meet, he was being the perfect man. ‘What kinds of dresses do you think she looks good in?’ I sent it back, curious as to what he thought again.

Steve wore a sports jacket over a dark mock turtleneck that emphasized his broad shoulders and powerful chest. Ralph Smith addressed the group. "Folks, we're in for a real treat today. In case any of you've been living in a cave for the past couple of months, you need to know that our high school football team is undefeated, and much of the credit for that goes to this young man, Steve Hammer, team quarterback.

I nodded, taking in his rather disturbing madman outfit, the buckles on the blood-stained sleeves of his straight jacket clinking together every time he moved. “Where are the rest of the crew?” he continued, looking around. I caught sight of Kay’s bun through the crowd and showed him, pushing my way through the crowd once again. He followed close behind, stopping to greet people as we passed them and commenting on their outfits. “Hello hamburger.” he greeted Kay, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Actually, I’m the fall of American health.” she retorted, her fist resting on a pickle which protruded on the side of her costume.

"Four deluxe cheese burgers, four fries, and two bottles of whiskey please!" "Are your friends always this excited?" Easton asked, sidling up to me. Today, he had dressed down from his ties and suits and had worn a plain black shirt and grey pants instead. I nodded in answer to his inquiry. "They almost always are. They're like my recharging stations," I added, shrugging. In a nearby mirror, I caught a reflection of myself — in a black and white striped shirt and black pants, a silver chain around my neck, my hair tousled and slicked back in lazy strokes. Dominic had insisted on matching with me, and was thus wearing a pair of black and white polka dots shirt with black plants. Harris was in