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kwanisms · 10 months

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Stranded for the Holidays Collab

➮ a stray kids & ateez writer collaboration

The holidays are typically about family, friends, and gatherings but sometimes it also means inclimate weather and forces beyond our control running amok and ruining what's meant to be a joyous time. So here are 16 stories about being stranded during the holidays brought to you by 9 amazing writers; @anyamaris , @millennial-fangirl , @twisted-tales-of-all , @yoonguurt , @kpop-stories-21 , @staytinyville , @skyechild , @stardragongalaxy , & myself.

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❅ Swiss Holiday by Booki

➮ best friend's brother!Yunho × f!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 21.4k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: All throughout her formative years, Y/N has always harbored a bit of a crush on her best friend’s brother, Yunho. Having not seen him for years, she doesn’t expect those feelings to come back when she joins the Jeong’s on a family trip to a cabin in the Alps for the holiday. When she meets Yunho and his girlfriend, she’s hopeful that she can finally move on.

❅ Read Now

❅ Purrfect Company by Anya

➮ cafe owner!Minho × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.7k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Working at a cat cafe has its perks, but your sarcastic boss Minho is definitely not one of them. Despite it being the holidays, you have no one to spend it with so you’ve volunteered to take the shift at the cafe on Christmas eve. A power outage and a surprise visit from your seemingly rigid boss has you discovering things you’d never have known otherwise. Maybe Minho has a softer side than you’d realized.

❅ Read Now

❅ Room 25: a Christmas Love Story by Liz

➮ idol!Changbin × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Changbin is enjoying his Christmas break from Stray Kids and life. He checks into a ski resort. He runs to an old hometown friend. Who is working at the resort. One can surmise it turns into a Christmas romance.

❅ Read Now

❅ Bittersweet Holiday by Sar

➮ Hongjoong × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Christmas has always been yours and Hongjoong's favorite holiday. After all, it was on Devember 24th four years ago that the two of you became husband and wife. But this year is different; not only will it be the last one you celebrate with Hongjoong, it will be the last one you celebrate period. And you can't think of a better place to be when things happen than snowed in with your husband at your family's mountain cabin.

❅ Read Now

❅ Just as the Kids Predicted by Jay

➮ Jeongin × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When the new student mentor catches first-grade teacher Mr. Yang's eyes, he tries to keep his crush to a minimum. However, then they get too drunk at the annual holiday party and confess their feels for him as he drives them home, he begins making moves, and a snowstorm during a staff-only workday helps them move things along even faster.

❅ Read Now

❅ This Isn't Grey's Anatomy by Kay

➮ Seungmin × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Working the night shift at the hospital has always been easy for Y/N because most often than not, everyone eas asleep and there wasn't much she needed to do. However, when she gets Seungmin as a patient because he has bronchitis, her chill nights were anything but chill. With the heating system working slowly, there was only so much blankets could do to heat up the body.

❅ Read Now

❅ Crafting Christmas by Sky

➮ single dad!San × f!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.2k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a failed relationship and an ailing mother forces Y/N to move back to her hometown, despite not wanting to. She knows in her heart that everything will be the same as the day she left. Nothing ever changes in a small town... except when it does. A new neighbor, a new hardware store, and two new additions to two will bring the holiday magic into Y/N's life. The question is, will the magic stay or will the Ghost of Christmas Past ruin everything?

❅ Read Now

❅ Home for the Holidays by Mio

➮ Seonghwa × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Seonghwa comes gome early the day before Christmas Eve to surprise you, and with the roads being closed to all the snow you were not expecting anyone at your door at 9pm.

❅ Read Now

❅ Naughty or Nice: a Complicated Christmas Story by Liz

➮ Mingi × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Mingi and you broke off a week before Christmas and was due to get the rest of his stuff on Christmas Eve. Was he being cruel in picking it up on that day, both his and your favorite holiday. Or was he trying to get back together? Either way, you would get your answer since you're now snowed in.

❅ Read Now

❅ Snow Stars by Haru

➮ Wooyoung × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On vacation for the holidays, a break from all the busy times have left you feeling under the weather. What better way to warm you up and get better than the brightest star in your heart?

❅ Read Now

❅ A Boyfriend for Christmas by Sar

➮ Jisung × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Telling your parents you had a boyfriend always kept them off your back about settling down. Now that they're coming up for Christmas, your lie is about to be exposed and you begin to panic. Luckily, Fate takes pity on you and has you running into a cute barista who captures your heart immediately.

❅ Read Now

❅ Frauds and Festivities by Jay

➮ Jongho × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and your boyfriend have been drifting away for the past couple of weeks. It's god-awful timing though, as the planned holiday trip with your friends creeps around the corner. After deciding to stick it out through the holidays, you manage to get on each other's nerves more than ever before, but you must keep up the act.

❅ Read Now

❅ Less Than Perfect by Anya

➮ boyfriend!Yeosang × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.5k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your boyfriend Yeosang has planned the most amazing vacation for the two of you over the Christmas holiday. While the journey starts out fine, you both find yourselves in a small town with car troubles and no mechanic to fix it because of the holiday. What should have been a perfectly planned vacation turns into everything going wrong, or so your boyfriend thinks. It could just be that perfect isn’t what you’re looking for.

❅ Read Now

❅ the Most Wonderful Time of the Year by Sky

➮ Chris × f!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.6k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Christmas this, Christmas that. The "most wonderful time of the year" is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year; makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of have the Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year he finally decides that it's time to bring the magic back into her life. And maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.

❅ Read Now

❅ Ghost of the Past by Booki

➮ ex!Hyunjin × f!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 20.1k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/N never expected to run into her ex again, especially not at a holiday party of all places. Nor did she expect for him to offer to drive her home when her ride bails on her. She definitely did not expect Hyunjin’s car to get stuck in the snow and for them to have to spend the night at an elderly couple’s house where they, unsurprisingly, have to share a room and even more unsurprisingly, there’s only one bed.

❅ Read Now

❅ Holiday Warmth by Haru

➮ Felix × reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after bring snowed in from the winter storm and your friends in neighboring cabins, what better way to pass the time as the countdown to Christmas is near.

❅ Read Now

#16 days of smutmas 2023 #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez x reader #stranded for the holidays collab masterlist

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growingstories · 1 year

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Après ski

Axel, beloved the son of a wealthy farmer in Austria, grew up with a natural talent for skiing. During the winter months, their land was transformed into a thriving ski resort. His parents, also ran a renowned ski school, ensured that Axel received the best training and opportunities in the sport.

From a young age, Axel excelled on the slopes, becoming the best skier in the village. His skills took him beyond the local competitions, and he even won the country ski cup and had the honor of competing in the Olympics. However, despite his success, Axel felt the need for a different path and started uni.

After a few seasons as a ski instructor, Axel stumbled upon the world of apres ski. The parents of kids he taught in his premium class were so appreciative of his coaching that they often showered him with gifts, such as bottles of champagne and warm gluhwine. During the day, he would ski off the excess indulgence, staying in incredible shape.

During the spring and summer, Axel hit the gym to maintain his fitness, eager to make the most of the upcoming winter season. He was determined to balance his love for skiing with his newfound enjoyment of the apres ski lifestyle.

However, as the next winter season arrived, the apres ski scene had transformed into a series of binge drinking events and extravagant dinners, all funded by rich parents. Axel found himself irresistibly drawn to the vibrant party atmosphere, indulging in a carefree lifestyle. He would pick up girls at the bar and enjoy passionate encounters every evening.

Unfortunately, the lavish lifestyle came at a cost. Axel began to gain weight rapidly, and by the end of the second season, he had struggled to shed the excess pounds fast enough for the upcoming winter. Even before Christmas approached, he could feel his weight creeping up due to all the festive celebrations in the village.

Regardless of the strain on his uniform, Axel continued to party unabated during the winter season. His weight continued to spiral out of control, pushing the limits of his once perfect physique. At times he attempted to go to the gym, but the physical exertion proved more difficult now with his increasing size.

As the third ski season loomed, Axel's parents presented him with an ultimatum – lose weight or lose his place in the premium ski class. Failing to shed the extra pounds, he was demoted to being an instructor for a regular group. While a less exciting prospect, the change allowed Axel to indulge in his love for ski instruction while partying and feasting without restraint.

The following summer, Axel didn't even bother trying to lose weight. He lounged in the sun by the pool, enjoying endless amounts of food and drink, blissfully unconcerned about his expanding waistline.

By the fourth winter season, Axel had grown to the point where he needed the biggest uniform available. His parents assigned him to a group of adult skiers who preferred leisurely tours and relaxing on terraces. The entire season revolved around indulgent lunches, lively apres ski evenings, and lavish dinners. His focus was no longer on skiing but on consuming as much food and drink as possible.

Throughout the summer, Axel's weight continued to increase, with no sign of slowing down.

The fifth winter season proved to be the most challenging for Axel. His parents entrusted him with a beginners group, which proved embarrassing but ultimately beneficial. With his weight hindering his movement, making tours became incredibly difficult. Despite his struggle, Axel continued to gain weight, trapped in a cycle of inactivity and overeating.

By the sixth season, Axel had become so obese that his parents had to commission a tailored jacket for him, as the largest size available no longer fit. longer No able to ski or instruct due to his weight, he stationed was at the cash register instead. It was a monotonous role, but one that allowed him to continue eating his beloved chocolate without restraint Swiss.

Despite no longer being an instructor, Axel remained the star of the apres ski scene. He reveled in the constant flow of free food and drinks, relishing the attention ad andoration he received from fellow partygoers. Even with his limitations, everyone still knew and revered the once legendary skier turned apres ski enthusiast, Axel.

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thesunhatesme · 7 months

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⛷️The ghouls on a ski trip - HC⛷️

Copia took his ghouls on a ski trip because they hadn’t been on one in a long time and Phantom and Aurora hadn’t tried it before, and who was he to say no to their puppy eyes. So he rented a little house in a ski resort and packed his ghouls up in the car drove off to the mountains.

Phantom

Took ages to decide on skis or snowboard (ended up with skis because that’s what Swiss and Mountain had)

Gave up because it was too much with a ski on each foot and a pole in each hand and he couldn’t walk properly in the ski boots

Tried snowboarding with Dew and Rain

Was surprisingly good at snowboarding

Had a good time at the after ski party

Showed Copia how high he could jump (scared the living shit out of the poor old man)

Rain

Tried out his new chest strap for his gopro

Filmed some of his and Dew’s tricks

Quietly cursed at people for almost hitting him and not knowing how to act in a trick park

Came up with the idea of getting helmet covers to encourage phantom to keep going

Taught Phantom how to jump and go on the rails.

Got very drunk at the after ski

Dew

Went directly to the fun park with Rain to go on the jumps and rails

Bought matching helmet covers for him self, Rain and Phantom

Went to meet up with Phantom and Swiss to introduce him to the snowboard

Taught him the basics and didn’t know what to do next because he shouldn’t be that good the first time

Loudly cursed at people for for almost hitting him and not knowing how to act in a trick park

Also got very drunk at the after ski

Swiss

Tried teaching Phantom how to ski with Mountain

Bought phantom and Mountain a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows

Went to meet up with Aether and Copia with Mountain

Had a great time and took loads of pictures of the others (and even more of them when they fell)

Pushed someone so they fell

Met up with Cirrus to try the steeper slopes

Got drunk at the after ski

Mountain

Helped Phantom and Aurora put their boots on

Comforted phantom after he fell and gave up

Skied down the rest of the slope with Phantom between his skis with his poles as a handle because phantom was done

Called Rain to make him and Dew get him to try a snowboard

Drank a hot chocolate with Phantom and Swiss

Fell

Pushed Swiss back so he also fell

Didn’t get drunk at the after ski (he knows how to drink without getting drunk)

Aether

Helped Aurora and Phantom pick out helmets and goggles

Went with the Girls and Copia to get Aurora started

Went to the slopes with the best views with Copia to take pictures for the Christmas cards

Met up with Mountain and Swiss

Did not get drunk at the after ski

Aurora

Picked out a helmet, a pair of goggles, boots and a snowboard that all matched her outfit

Got a bit scared in the lift, it was so high up

Took loads of pictures and videos

Had a great time and loved every part of snowboarding

Thought she was freezing to death and went to get hot chocolate and warm up a bit with the girls

Got a bit tipsy at the after ski

Cirrus

Teached Aurora how to snowboard

Took loads of pictures of the girls and her in the lift

Drank hot chocolate with the girls

Went to try out the steeper slopes with Swiss

Didn’t get very drunk at the after ski (just a little tipsy)

Cumulus

Took way to many pictures and videos of her two snowboarding girls like a proud mom

Bought hot chocolate for the girls

Went back to the hired cottage with Aurora because it was a bit cold

Chilled in the bubble pool

Didn’t get drunk at the after ski party

Copia

Made sure everyone had a map and sunscreen

Made sure everyone got started

Took out his camera for the Christmas cards

Tried to stop some ghouls from making each other fall

Thought Phantom was going to die when he jumped and slid on the rails

Didn’t get that drunk, he just tasted a couple of beers

#phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #copia #the band ghost #hc

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blackswaneuroparedux · 1 year

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Les aspirations les plus absurdes et les plus téméraires ont parfois conduit à des succès extraordinaires.

- Vauvenargues

St. Moritz has been a famous health resort in Engadine since the 19th century. At first, it was only frequented by spa guests, before the village developed into a high alpine sports centre, and for a time it was a playground for the rich and famous. There’s still some of that element present but not as in its hey day of the 70s. For nine months of the year it’s just another picturesque village in the gorgeous Swiss Alps, with Lake St. Moritz lying at its heart.

Crucially it is quietly forgotten by the outside world. Residents can breathe and go about their daily chilled out lives. For those precious nine months it was great to hike and ski there as my boarding school wasn’t too far away from getting there. But the other four months of the year, the high season, it gets flood with skiers and altogether more showy crowd.

The frozen surface of the lake, which can only be described as a desert of snow, now serves as a symbol of the resort itself. From nine months of natural bliss to four months of chaos and madness. Every time the ice lends its surface to polo tournaments, horse races, and the wealthy and beautiful make the pilgrimage down the mountains from their grand hotels, St. Moritz seems to transform. St. Moritz’s newest ‘gimmick’ for the past three years or so has been to serve the International Concours of Elegance St. Moritz - or The ICE St. Moritz - as a kind of classic car museum with an adventurous character.

Since the first ever The ICE St. Moritz in 2019, historic rally cars have been exhibited to the sports car-crazy public on the opening day, before demonstrating their horsepower on the ice racetrack on the second day of the event. However, the fact that The ICE is taking place on Lake St. Moritz, of all places, is no coincidence. In 1985, a group of Scottish and British sportsmen drove their vintage Bentleys to St. Moritz to celebrate the centenary of the Cresta Run (an eccentric and high spirited toboggan amateur race). As part of the festivities, they drove their cars on the racecourse across the frozen Lake St. Moritz.

This year, however, the ICE St. Moritz evolved slightly differently. For the first time, the event was held on two days: Friday 24 and Saturday 25 February. On the first day, the lake was transformed into an open-air museum, where the jury evaluated the cars on display from an aesthetic perspective. Then, on the second day, the actual race took place, whereupon the jury evaluated the classic cars from a performance perspective.

This year there were five category winners. In the ‘Open Wheels’ category, the 1958 Maserati 420M/58 “Eldorado” held its own. Meanwhile, the ‘Barchettas on the Lake’ category crowned the Ferrari 500 Mondial Series II from 1955 as the winner. My personal favourite, the aforementioned Ferrari 250 Testarossa ‘Lucybelle’ emerged as the winner in the ‘Le Mans 100’ category. As expected, Lancia Strato’s HF Zero of 1970 came out on top in the ‘Concept Cars & One Offs’ category. Last but not least, judges crowned the 1958 Bentley S1 Continental Drophead Coupé as the winner of the ‘Queens on Wheels’ category.

The evening gala took place at Badrutts Palace, which towers over the city like a castle with its high stone walls. In the stimulating semi-darkness and under shimmering candlelight, riders, collectors, enthusiasts, the public and media from all over the world celebrated the conclusion of one of the most anticipated competitions in the Engadine. Overall it’s spectacular fun and contrary to what one might believe it really does draw the car enthusiast crowd rather than the snob mob. It’s a very chilled event and bags of fun.

#ICE st moritz #vauvenargues #quote #french #sportscar #racing #racers #driving #drivers #ice #st. moritz #snow #switzerland

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hopefulkidshark · 8 months

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Verbier, Switzerland: Verbier is a village located in south-western Switzerland in the canton of Valais. It is a holiday resort and ski area in the Swiss Alps and is recognised as one of the premier off-piste resorts in the world. Some areas are covered with snow all year. Skiers have settled in the Verbier area in order to take advantage of the steep slopes, varied conditions, and resort culture. Wikipedia

#Verbier #Switzerland

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months

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When William and Catherine's relationship became public in 2004, was there ever a confirmation or denial from the palace or Clarence House? I'm trying to work on their timeline, I just couldn't see one.

There was confirmation by outrage. This piece from E News recaps what happened.

The pic showed the prince gazing at his then-girlfriend lovingly as they boarded a ski lift in the Swiss resort of Klosters, a longtime favorite family vacation spot for William, who was also accompanied by Harry, their father Prince Charles and friends during the trip. The headline: "Finally...Wills Gets a Girl." The newspaper also included an article and more photos of William and Kate, which was dubbed the prince's "first serious girlfriend". The Royal family was furious. Buckingham Palace accused The Sun of breaching a media agreement to leave William alone following an official photocall with his father, despite the fact that the photo was taken by a paparazzo who was not a member of the newspaper's staff. The palace imposed on the newspaper a temporary ban that prohibited their journalists from covering the Royal family at their events. Officials also refused to confirm or deny the couple's romance.

#waleses #timeline

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catherinetheprincessofwales · 6 months

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1 April 2004. 20 years ago, The Sun published the first photographs of Prince William and "his first serious girlfriend", Kate Middleton together while on a ski holiday in the Swiss resort of Klosters with Prince Charles, Prince Harry and other friends.

The Guardian reported on the incident stating: “Prince Charles today threatened to sever official relations with the Sun after the paper apparently broke an agreement to leave Prince William in peace.. The front page of today's Sun carries a photograph of the prince with fellow student Kate Middleton at the Swiss ski resort of Klosters under the banner headline "Finally... Wills gets a girl". Over the next four pages billed as a "world exclusive: the royal romance", the prince is pictured again with a young woman the paper says is "his first serious girlfriend".”

#ktd #british royal family #kate middleton #princess of wales #brf #throwback #The sun #April #prince william #catherine middleton #They look so nerdy 🤓

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debrink · 2 years

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Klosters

Grissons, Suisse 1250m

~ Alex Stocker (1926-1951), circa 1950

#Klosters #Grissons #Suisse #Alex Stocker #1950 #Swiss Ski Resorts #The Ski Collection #deBrink

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cerise-angel · 2 years

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West coast

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+ smut; smoking and drinking

Kind of a singer!au? (Omg Djo hi!!!) Heavily, if not totally, inspired by the song west coast and the ultraviolence album. Just saw the pictures above, while listening and yeah, this is it. Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think 💘💕😖 (if i have the guts and time, maybe i will do one for each song of the album) Emotional smut ❤️😭🥵 Also this is my first smut, sorry if its not that juicy..... English is not my first language, sorry for any grammar mistakes/mispelling.

The night was hot and humid, the wind blowing relentlessly, boiling a summer storm with it. Even so, the small restaurant was almost full, pretty much all the tables taken, the dim lightning focusing on the small stage. Not that people seemed to be paying much attention to the man singing. You were though.

Sitting beside the bar in a tall chair, you ordered another Jack n Coke to the bartender, who seemed much happier to bring you more alcohol. "This was supposed to be fun." You thought to yourself, sighing. It was your vacation after all, and you decided to come down to south California, staying in a fancy resort.

Felt was nice, but lonely, it had started to bother you, bubbling in your chest, that same feeling of fear and relief of being alone, which usually ended up in tears or in the best peace you've ever known. The pretty singer seemed to be as frustrated as you. You focused on him, the way his hands played the guitar, his shirt opened until the fourth button, leaving out a sight of his chest and the gold chain resting against it. He stopped playing for a break, receiving a light but sure round of applause. He brought his drink to his lips, and locked eyes with you.

The way you were staring at him, as if he was good enough to eat, made him cock an eyebrow at you, which caused you to choke and spill your drink. He smiled, chuckling lightly, and even though you were embarrassed and tipsy, you couldn't stop looking at him. He started playing back, and you decided to head out of the restaurant, too ashamed for your own good.

Grabbing your phone, while sitting in one of the iron wired chairs outside, you texted your friend.

just embarrassed myself in front of the cute singer. that's why i hate gemini season.

You attached a funny selfie of you, making a fake crying face, and pressed send. Sighing yet again, you looked up at the dark skies, very cloudy, the smell of rain creeping from the grounds. It was going to rain very soon, but you really didn't care. It was fucking hot, your dress clinging to your body, your body getting damp with sweat. A cold rain would do good.

Contemplating your options, you settled for finishing your drink, and asking one more to the waiter that passed by. Surely time had passed, but you didn't know the amount. The wind was blowing even angrier, bending the palm trees and knotting the swiss cheese plants around you.

Your friend finally answered your phone, at the same time your new drink came.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Looking up to what it was supposed to be the young boy who had been attending your orders the whole night, it was the said cute singer. You felt hot in the cheeks and on the back of your knees. You wished for the rain. He looked at you with a soft smile dangling on his features, a mischief burning in his eyes.

"Can I sit with you?"

You nodded, chugging down a big gulp of the whiskey mixed with soda. He sat down, not in the chair in your front, but beside you. He reached for a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, and drank his golden rum.

"Do you have a light?"

You nodded again, picking a neon pink lighter from your small purse.

"You don't talk?"

You looked at him a little angry and embarrassed, your mouth forming a pout before you could answer. The cute singer laughed, finally lighting his cigarette.

"Just messing with you, pretty. Don't get mad."

"I'm not mad. And I do talk."

He looked at you again, his eyes burning like his cigarette. He smiled, smugly. You smiled, ironically. He kept looking at you, and the drink you had earlier and the hot weather, made you look down, at your phone. Your friend's message was still unread.

i always thought embarrassing yourself was yoour flirting tactic? lol get him tigress

You chuckled lightly, and seconds after, as if in cue, the skies opened its gates, and big drops of water started to crash against the earth. You cursed under your breath, and quickly got your stuff, shoving your phone in your purse, and grabbing the half full cup to take to your chalet with you. The cute singer got up too, offering you his light jacket, to cover your clinging dress. You took it, grabbing his hand and bringing him along with you. He stopped before you could go any further, though.

"Hey, pretty, what cabin is yours?"

"Eight."

"Why don't we get inside, wait for the rain to subside, and then we go?"

The way he kept saying we, made your blood rush, your cheeks get red, your hands get sweaty, your breath hitch. You nodded, again, and he pulled you close to his body, bringing you back to the restaurant lobby.

Strangely, his cigarette was still on fire. You probably looked at it with a weird expression, because he chuckled, the hand that was still on your waist, rubbing your sides.

"My name's Steve Harrington. But you can call me Steve, or cute singer, whichever you like, pretty."

The way this man could make you turn into a giggling high school girly who just got a wink from her crush was insane. Maybe you were insane. It was his fault though, his pretty rough hands, the slightly chapped lip rubbing the cigarette, the faint smell of ash and vanilla he had. You were feeling dizzy. Putting a hand on his biceps, you pushed a little distance between you two.

"I'm sorry for ogling at you. You just looked really nice in the stage and no one paid you enough attention."

"You don't think I look nice now?"

He had, in the most subtle way, pulled you back into his chest, his hand resting on your lower back, his eyes glinting with desire. You looked up at him, at the smug smile you wanted to just kiss off his mouth, the small freckles he had on his neck and face.

"I think you look much more than nice now."

Steve dropped the cigarette on the floor, and his other hand caged your face. His lips were on you by a mere second, tasting like rum and salt.

"The rain decreased. C'mon, pretty."

------

The rain was a drizzle now, making the hot weather much more bearable. Steve had your hand in his, his other hand holding a bottle of golden rum he had taken from the kitchen. Your cup was still in your hand, with a very watered down liquor on it.

Steve stopped, letting your hand go and giving you the bottle before lighting up another cigarette. You drank a small amount from the bottle, smiling, tipsy for him. He smiled back, puffing the smoke before kissing you again.

The chalet wasn't far, but you two were eager. Walking fast and tangled when the rain started to pour heavily again, you made to the door of the cabin, soaked and dazed.

You unlocked the door, took off your kitten heels and walked inside. Steve did the same, letting his shoes out. You went to the bedroom, grabbing a towel for him and one for you. When you got back to the kitchen/living room assemble, Steve had put some music on, and was on the balcony. You couldn't tear your eyes away, even if you wanted to.

He was swinging slowly to the song, the breeze adding more allure to his silhouette. His cigarette on fire, his hands were up, dancing in a drunk manner. You wanted to eat him. You discarded the towels in the chair, and being a little intoxicated from the alcohol, from the heat, and, mostly, from him, popped the front buttons of your dress, reveling no bra and a glimpse of your panties.

Steve has stopped dancing, his eyes glued to your lustful form. He wanted to get inside again, and take you on the small couch, but he knew better. You seemed to enjoy playing this game, and he wasn't going to end your fun. So he waited, licking his lips, and chugging down the rum.

When you got to the balcony, the wind had risen, bringing some of the rain inside it. Steve reached for you in a moment, his hands now on your ass, his hips glued to yours, swinging with him.

"What song is this?"

You asked breathlessly, only to not give in to him first. Everything about him made you lose it, and one of his hands played around your almost exposed breasts now. His head was hanging low, eyes focused on your glowing skin, and the shivers he could bring you with just a slight touch.

"No idea, honey."

He gave in first. His lips chased yours, licking, kissing, burning. Your hands were on his soft silk hair, your lips connected to his, your whole body reacting to him. Steve's hands were now in your shoulders, pulling the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts. His kissing started to slow down, pecking your lips, your chin, your neck and finally your breasts.

You whimpered when his lips involved your nipple, his hands now resting in your waist and ass, steadying you in place. Steve looked up through hooded eyes and eyelashes, and you left a near pornographic moan at the sight. He smiled against your skin, pulled the rest of your dress off and turning you swiftly, so that your back was on display for him.

His hands played with your breasts, and he kissed your bare shoulders. You couldn't take it anymore, and started to push your hips against his, the aching lust taking the best of you. Steve fucking chuckled, putting his hands on your hips to stop you. You whined.

"Steve. Do something."

"I am doing."

You moved your hips again, turning in his embrace, locking your lips in a heated kiss. Steve's hands kept you flushed against him, his hips now moving in sync with yours. Your hand traveled down to his jeans, touching his clothed cock. Steve whined and you chuckled.

His hands did the same, going under your cotton panties, making you gasp and moan. He kissed you back immediately, keeping your sweet noises just between your two. You finally pulled his jeans and boxers down, looking at his pretty cock. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Smugly, he touched your chin, tilting your head up.

"My eyes are up here, honey."

You rolled your eyes, ready to talk him down, but his fingers pushed inside you. Steve turned on his heels, bringing you with him, so now you were pressed against the balcony fence. Softly, he tapped your leg, and you sited on top of the fence, opening your legs for him. Steve pulled your panties down, and you helped him out of his shirt. He was more eager than you, pressing himself against your pussy before the shirt was off. You kissed him again, and he kissed back softly, slowing down while his hands secured you by the waist. Slowly, Steve pushed himself inside you, making you gasp and whimper at the stretch. His mouth pecked you, easing you into it. His hands were now cupping your jaw, his breathing ragged, forehead against yours. Softly, you muttered.

"Move, baby, move, baby."

Steve gave you the prettiest smile, rocking his hips against you. You clawed at his back, your legs wrapping on his waist. Steve's mouth was back to your breasts, one of his hands squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh while the other kept caging your jaw.

"Steve. Steve, please. More."

"You-Jesus, honey, you so sweet. Fuck."

His lips kissed your mouth again, his hips keeping a tough rhythm in and out of you. Your hands were now on his hair, tugging, pulling, caressing his scalp. Steve's eyes were glued to the meeting of your bodies, the way you fitted him perfectly. He picked up the pace, faster and deeper, making you cry out in pleasure. His mouth latched to your neck, sucking, biting, kissing. You kissed his face relentlessly, lips meeting his forehead, his temple, his eyes, everything. You were close enough to hot white pleasure, and Steve seemed to notice, bringing his hand to rub your clit. Your head fell back, mouth opened, while he kept fucking you and kissing your neck and breasts.

"C'mon, honey. Come to me."

And you did. Your body felt limp, completely relaxed, your lips twitching a lazy smile. Steve slowed his pace, easing you out of your bliss. You brought your lips to his neck, and Steve whimpered, his hips stuttering against yours. You sucked the same spot, nipping gently at the soft skin. Steve pulled out, painting your thighs with his seed. He smiled, too, before kissing you again.

The kiss was gentle, slow. Steve helped you out of the fence, making sure to support your tumbling legs. You wrapped your arms on his neck, nuzzling your face in his chest.

"Shower with me?"

You asked meekly, not wanting him to leave. Steve nodded, wrapping you in a hug, following you to the bathroom. It was strange, how much you liked him. You met him in less than a day, and here you were, letting him wash your hair, and help you to apply body oil. You quite probably were insane.

Steve's skin was warm to the touch, soft and painted with freckles. You washed his back, in a retribution for him washing your hair. Steve kept you close, always touching you, kissing you. It made you feel like maybe he was liking you too. Maybe you weren't that insane.

After the shower, you clung to him again, worried that he might leave you. He smiled, reassuring you he wouldn't, pulling you on top of him in the bed. Steve pulled the duvet to cover you, and you turned the ac on. When you looked at him again, he was already looking at you. His eyes were even prettier in the small lightning, and you had to resist to urge to touch and connect the freckles on his bare chest.

Steve kissed you, and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his rough hands squeezing you against his own body.

"Steve. I think, I think, I'm in love."

He looked up, his cheeks glowing pink, his eyes shining with yearning.

"Honey, I'm in love."

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #singer!steve harrington #west coast lana del rey #stevie harrington #cherry writing #cerise writings #stevie blurb

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flieslikeamoron · 8 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

I've posted a couple snippets of this before, but I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with it. So this is the first two chapters of my Steddie Schitt's Creek AU. I'll start posting it on AO3 once I'm far enough into it, but if you want a preview...

This is about 5K words. Rated T so far for kissing and slightly impure thoughts.

Steve Harrington is in hell. Granted, he's not wanted for tax crimes, insider trading, money laundering and whatever else his parents were getting up to. So it's not like he needs to flee arrest like they did. But is he really better off?

They put away a nice little offshore nest egg, fled the country for the Maldives as soon as they realized the heat was about to come down, and never said a word to him about what was coming. No heads up. No maybe you should come on vacation with us. No here’s an account we set up for you in the Caymans. Nothing.

And that's what Steve has left to his name. Nothing. Just a handful of clothes. And a ludicrously small amount cash. It's the kind of money he used to drop on lunch, or drinks at the club. Nothing. The cars are gone, and the New York apartment, and the house in the Hollywood Hills, and the beach house, and the other beach house, and the European beach house, the jet, so much of his wardrobe it makes him want to cry... The only thing left, the only thing that wasn't in his fugitive parents' name, the only thing he actually owns is a Family Video store in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Of all the pointless things. Why couldn't his parents have given him a sweet little boat or a cute little ski cabin or something the day he was born? Why did it have to be a useless video store?

He knows why. At the time they'd only owned about fifteen or twenty video stores. The start of a regional chain that grew into a national monster that grew into a media conglomerate. At the time it had been a way to welcome their new son into the family business. A new store. A new kid. Both born on the same day. It was symbolism, not a real gift. He's never seen the store. He doubts they have either. He completely forgot he even owned it until the lawyers sat him down and laid out the complete devastation of his life.

He doesn’t know who’s been running it, but someone has because it’s still open. Somehow. The Family Video part of his parents’ empire went under years ago, thousands of stores shut down all over the country. Just this one lonely shop left shambling along like some kind of zombie. An obsolete relic of a bygone era. He might as well own a Model T factory.

But it’s all he’s got. So now. Instead of whatever resort his parents fucked off to, instead of a fun little yacht or a Swiss chalet, he’s heading for Hawkins, Indiana. On a bus. A Bus! Where he has been trapped for over twelve hours with the absolute dregs of humanity and the pervasive smell of literal shit wafting from the disgusting excuse for a toilet.

He emerges. finally, with four suitcases, the last precious remnants of everything he holds dear, into the absolute worst place in the world.

The bus station seems to be right on the edge of what the sign across the street proclaims “Historic Downtown Hawkins.” There’s a row of quaint brick store fronts. Faded awnings over old-fashioned window displays. There's a restaurant called Mabel's. There's a Laundr-o-matic. There's an honest to God "General Store" like something out of a black and white movie. Like Steve's time warped into the actual past. Do these people even have cell phones? Has he discovered a land cut off from modern society like some explorer uncovering a hidden tribe in the Amazon? That would explain why they still have a video store.

His head is pounding. Everything is so fucking quaint. Someone says hi to him, giving Steve a cheerful wave as he passes. A disturbingly casual friendliness that puts Steve on edge. He waves back anyway, pasting on a big, fake smile. This is a nightmare, but he’s been in bad spots before. He just needs to sell the store and get the hell out of here.

But first things first, he needs a place to stay.

He pulls out his phone. Does this place even have Uber?

The car pulls up surprisingly quickly. A big boat of an Oldsmobile that’s seen better days. Not exactly Uber Black, but beggars can’t be choosers. Steve wheels his bags to the trunk. The driver doesn't seem like he's going to help, which is not going to do his star rating any favors. There's no porter so Steve pops the trunk himself. Only about two of the bags will fit. He puts the other two in the backseat, and climbs into the passengers seat.

The driver is a shaggy haired guy about Steve’s age. He just sit there. Staring at Steve, wide-eyed. "Hawkins Motel?" Steve says, annoyed. It's all in the app, isn't it? The guy opens his mouth, and closes it again. Is there something wrong with him? Does he not speak English? His haircut looks like he did it himself without a mirror. Steve mentally docks another star. "Anytime today," Steve snaps. He could maybe stand to be a bit more polite, but he smells of bus, and this has been the worst day of the worst week of his entire life.

The guy shrugs, still looking a bit surprised that driving an Uber means having another person in your car. "The motel you said?"

So he does speak English.

"That's right."

At least it’s a short drive. The motel’s toward the outskirts of the town, not that it seems like they get a lot of tourist traffic around here. As his driver pulls up to the check in office, Steve hesitates. The place looks- It’s a long row of dilapidated rooms with blue painted doors. Haphazardly tilted air conditioning units in the windows. A couple windows with cardboard taped in where the glass should be. An overflowing dumpster. It looks like it has been, or will be, the scene of a murder.

“Are you okay?”

“Be honest. Do you know of any murders that have happened here?”

The guy thinks about it for a second, rather than just rattling off a no. Which Steve appreciates. “Not that I know of,” he says. “But there’s a B&B back in town if this isn’t your speed.” He gives Steve a small smile. “Byers’ House. Really nice place.”

Steve can’t afford really nice. He mentally adds a star back to the guy’s rating for his honesty. “No, it’s- It’ll be fine. Could you just wait one second while I check in though? I need to get to Family Video after I drop off the bags.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of-”

“Five minutes, I swear. And you’re going back that way anyway, right? I’ll pay cash.”

The guy gives him a long look. “You can’t just-” the guy says, losing steam halfway through. Steve smiles as the guy caves with a muttered, “Fine.” It’s the Harrington charm. Works every time.

Family Video is on the other end of “Historic Downtown Hawkins” from the bus station. It seems to be getting into a less historic area, surrounded by a strip mall on one side. The video store has that classic brick look though. A mural on the side of the building with a mashup of movie characters from Elle Woods to Darth Vader. It could easily be removed, wouldn’t affect the sale price. There are large windows on either side of the door, the classic coming attractions posters surrounded by lights. But as Steve climbs the stairs he notices the posters are made by hand. Some of them look like well done art by someone who knows what they’re doing, some of them look like the scribblings of a five year old.

How quaint.

He grimaces, pushing the door open. Cringing at the cheerful tinkle of a bell. "Welcome to Family Video." The girl at the counter looks up from her magazine, bored. "Can I help you find something?"

"The manager?" Steve says.

"That's me." She straightens up. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm Steve." Steve tries out a smile as he makes his way over to the counter. He has a great one. But she seems unmoved, not smiling back. "Harrington." He points in the vague direction of the Family Video logo on the wall. "As in, the family in Family Video."

She cocks her head. "I think my family is the family in this Family Video. We've only been running the place for 28 years." She adds, "Buckley." She points to the nametag on her suspenders that says Robin. She's wearing suspenders. Somehow they kind of work for her.

"I'm sure my family appreciates all your family has done to keep the store up and running."

"Last one in the country."

Steve gives smiling one more go. She looks at him stone faced. So much for the famous Harrington charm. Steve supposes what he's about to say isn't going to give her a lot to smile about. "I guess this is awkward," Steve says. "But the fact is I own this building, and the franchise license."

"The hell you do." She crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her chin.

"I do though," Steve says. "I don't know what deal my parents worked out with your parents. Obviously, we've been- I've been- Hands off. So that's thirty years of profits you haven't had to share and rent you haven't had to pay. I won't be seeking to recoup that, by the way."

She snorts. "Go ahead and try. There aren't any profits to share. We barely keep the lights on."

"Maybe this is an opportunity then," he says. "To turn this-" He makes a motion, encompassing the worn counter she's standing behind, the overflowing shelves of Blu-rays and DVDs, the scuffed floors. The general aura of decline in this shrine to an outdated form of media. "Into something profitable."

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"Well, the building has value. If the business doesn’t."

"The business has value," she argues. "It's just not in profits."

Steve cocks his head. "I don't follow."

"It has value to the town. We host movie nights in the town square all summer. We have groups that meet here to talk about film or books or writing." She motions at a couple squashy chairs in the corner with another mural on the wall. It’s the Gremlins doing a dance from Singing in the Rain. "We have an annual film festival. It’s happening next month. There are-"

"That's great," Steve interrupts. "But I need actual money. Not feel good small town vibes." He has to get out of this hellhole. And if that means selling this building out from under this stranger he doesn't give a shit about, he'll do it. That's business. That's how the world works.

“And I need you to go be delusional somewhere else.” She frowns at him. “You don’t own this place.”

“Really?” he says. “Because I have a copy of the deed in my bag back at the hotel and another on file with my lawyer. How about you?”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She manages to sound confident despite the fact that Steve knows for a fact she doesn’t have the goods.

“I’m happy to come back tomorrow with my extremely legal paperwork that will hold up in any court of law,” he says. “And you bring… Whatever you can dig up to help your case. If that doesn’t settle it, you can spend the profits you don’t have on a lawyer.”

“Great,” she says, voice flat. “Is there anything else I can help you with.” The amount of rage coming off her would be intimidating if he wasn’t completely sure he owns this place. And if she wasn’t wearing suspenders.

Steve heads to the diner down the street from the video store for dinner. He feels sort of shitty. Maybe he should have made his lawyer do this part, but he can’t really afford the retainer. So fuck it, fine. He’ll be the bad guy. It's not like it's his fault Robin’s parents put all their eggs in the basket of a store they didn't even own. What is Steve supposed to do about it? He needs the money. He owns the place. It's not on him to preserve some weird non-profit video store, just so kids can hang out there and talk about movies or whatever she was going on about.

"Anything I can get you?" a pretty blond asks. Steve grabs the menu, gives it a scan. The last few weeks have been one indignity after another. Steve didn’t really think he had any farther to sink, anything left to lose. But looking at that menu a lead weight sinks to the bottom of his gut, his throat suddenly going tight. He wants his salad with truffle vinagrette, he wants wagyu beef not meatloaf, he wants hiramasa not tilapia. He doesn’t want chicken fried anything ever.

"How about you bring me your favorite thing on the menu." He tries his smile out on the waitress just to make sure it's not broken. It’s probably not his best effort, considering how desperately he wants to cry about toro tartare. But she smiles back, charmed. He takes a second to notice how well she fills out her apron. Chrissy, her name tag says.

"Anything?" she says. "You don't have any food allergies, or-"

"Surprise me, Chrissy." She blushes at the sound of her name in his mouth.

“It’s so weird that you’re like… Here.” She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. Very cute. “I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Steve teases. “I’m more handsome than the pictures.”

She laughs. “Are you here for a while?” He can’t tell if it’s a come on or just curiosity.

“I have some business to wrap up,” Steve says. “But I’ll be here for a week or two.” Not more than that, surely. How long can it take to sell a stupid building?

"I'm really sorry about what happened. With your family and everything." She leans in, like she thinks he might be embarrassed for anyone to overhear her talking about something that was all over the news, all over twitter, all over tiktok, all over everything. The charges being made public. The feds turning Steve’s New York apartment inside out. Steve getting escorted out into a sea of flashing cameras. Every microsecond of his misfortune documented.

"Thanks," he says, clipped. The last thing he needs is pity from some girl who probably peaked by captaining her high school cheerleading squad, some waitress who's probably never left her home town. Steve's fucking broke, but he's still better than this town. Better than these people. He doesn't need her pity.

She senses the shift in his mood, the smile no longer directed at her. And straightens up. "Anything to drink?"

Steve fishes his phone out of his handbag when she's gone. He knows he shouldn't, but he checks his Instagram. He has friends all over the world. Had friends all over the world. And now look, he can watch them having fun without him in real time. Watch them not thinking about him. Not missing him. It's all right there in the palm of his hand.

There’s Kassandra sun bathing in Ibiza. And there’s Oliver clubbing in Toyko. And there’s Stavros. His boyfriend of a record breaking three months. Kissing some guy on the private plane he was supposed to be using to fly Steve out of here. And there’s Stavros kissing that same guy on his yacht with a breathtaking Mediterranean sunset behind them. Steve zooms in on a carpaccio with a jealousy so intense he feels sick to his stomach. Fuck Stavros, honestly. But he would kill for that carpaccio.

"Here you go," Chrissy chirps. She puts down a plate. "It's not actually on the menu, but it's my favorite. It’s like avocado toast, but it’s hash browns instead of toast. The kitchen makes it for me special." She puts down a second smaller plate with a few huge onion rings. “Mabel’s famous for her onion rings. Or- It’s the sauce, really.” She adds a milkshake. “You can use the shake for dipping too.”

Steve looks at the food. It’s all so… Fried. He looks at her face, the tentative smile there. He feels a flush of something uncomfortable. Feels sort of small, air knocked out of him by the way she bounced off his coldness and came back with a little piece of herself and a smile. Something hooks into his chest, and tugs.

“Thank you.” It sounds- Pathetically sincere. “It looks delicious.” That’s a lie, but he’s fucking doing his best.

Her smile grows to a bright, wide thing. Her pretty face lit up. She tilts her head, taking a breath. "Listen. I know you probably have- It's probably not what you're used to," she says. "But if you want to meet some people, there's a party out by the lake tonight." She shrugs. "I know it's hard to be new in town." She smiles again. So cute. "At least you could get a couple beers out of it."

"Will you be there?"

She blushes and nods. Pretty. Tempting. A nice distraction. Maybe even something he could put on his Insta.

“I’ll see you there.”

The party is exactly what Chrissy said it would be. Big bonfire. A couple kegs. A bunch of locals getting drunk, getting loud, hooking up. Steve looks around for Chrissy, pushing his way through the crowd. He doesn’t see her, and being around these yokels is bad for his morale. He grabs a beer and does another pass through the crowd, looking for anyone who’d make a good picture. He doesn’t need to advertise that he’s at a shitty party, but making out with someone hot might give Stavros second thoughts about taking that generic twink to Mykonos when he could have had Steve.

Steve looks past the rowdy center of the party to a guy standing a bit away from the fire. Long hair. Leather jacket. Shit-kicker boots. Steve can see a tantalizing bit of ink on his hand as he lights a cigarette. A bit more ink peeking out of the worn neckline of his tshirt. He looks like the kind of guy that'll sell you drugs or steal your wallet.

Perfect.

The camera is already open on Steve’s phone as he steps in close to the guy. Steve takes a fist full of his shirt in hand to keep him from stepping back as Steve plants one on him. The phone clicks and Steve' glances over at, about to take one more.

The guy cups Steve's chin. Warm fingers insistent, turning Steve away from the phone. Turning the hurried, awkward mash of their lips together into something that catches. Steve opens up, unthinking, for the heat of his mouth. The hand tight on his waist urges him closer, into the brush of leather, the heat of a body up against his. There's a lazy confidence to the way the guy slips him a little tongue. Steve leans into it, into him.

And the guy pulls back.

It takes Steve a second to let go of the grip he has on the guy's shirt. To remember why he came over here. His phone. Right. He never did get that second pic. He licks his lower lip. His eyes still on the guy. On his mouth. When Steve looks up enough to catch the guy's eye, the cocky quirk of his eyebrow, he can feel his face going hot.

Jesus.

Why is this guy even getting to him? He flirted his way out a Saudi prince's compound. He made it through two countries without a passport. He got into KissKiss without a lock of human hair. He does not get flustered. Especially not by small town guys with hair like they've been in a bunker since the 80s, and rough fingers and that infuriatingly amused look on their face.

"Um," Steve says. The guy's smile gets wider. Fuck.

“I have to-” Steve makes a vague motion, and starts walking in any random direction that’s away from how hard his heart is pounding, from how obvious it must be that he wants. From how easy it was to get under his skin. He tries not to picture that taunting grin being directed at his back while the guy watches him basically make a run for it.

Steve hitches a ride back to the motel, dreading taking an actual look inside his room. The bags are where he carelessly tossed him. The floors are worn linoleum. The air conditioner rattles like a plane propeller. The tile in the bathroom is chipped and discolored. He lines up his bags neatly in the closet. No point in unpacking. He won’t be staying long.

There are cigarette burns on the blanket, but the sheets seem clean at least. He slides gingerly into bed and pulls out his phone. He looks at the picture he took. It’s not great. A bit blurry. There’s the awkward stretch of his arm holding the camera. But if he cropped it- He zooms in on the guy’s face, trying to get a better look than he did at the party. It’s really only half his face. Steve can’t see that glint in his eyes, that curve of the grin that sticks so sharply in Steve’s craw. The soft focus blurry moment of his mouth against Steve’s still sends a thick pulse of arousal through Steve’s gut. The memory of the guy’s fingers against his chin, the demanding heat of his mouth.

He deletes the photo from his phone without posting it. It wasn’t Instaworthy.

CHAPTER TWO

Steve wakes up feeling worse than he did the time he accidentally roofied himself. A shower helps a little. The water temperature could charitably be called lukewarm. But Steve stands too long in the tepid spray, drawing in deep breaths, filling his lungs with the smell of his shampoo. One of a kind, made just for him. Because he’s the kind of person people want selling their brand. Because he’s the kind of person who has what other people want. He’s the kind of person other people want to be like.

Or he was.

No, he still is. No one will touch him right now, but that’s temporary. The next scandal will come along. People will forget about the bullshit, and remember that he’s Steve Harrington.

He fortifies himself with a look in the mirror. He hasn’t changed. He’s still got a face made to sell collagen spray and a body made for thirst traps. He takes a little extra time with his hair. He takes a little extra time choosing his outfit, running his hands through the couture in his suitcases, the thick wool and crisp linen, bumpy tweed, featherlight jersey. He pulls out a couple favorites. The gray pleated skirt. Thom Browne, of course. He hesitates between the matching sports coat and the red LV bomber. He always feels like hot shit in the bomber, but he should probably go for the look that says I’ll see you in court. His fingers trail over the soft leather of the bomber as he puts it back in his suitcase.

He snaps a couple pics when he’s done. There’s no way he’d post something with this hotel room as a background, but look at his hair. Perfect. His outfit. Impeccable. And there’s that Harrington smile.

There only seems to be one Uber driver in this town, but at least the guy was- Well, no, he wasn’t friendly. But he did help Steve carry his bags to the motel room. He knows the town too. Maybe Steve can pump him for the dirt on Robin and the store.

It’s a van than pulls up to the motel parking lot though, not the Oldsmobile from yesterday. Steve peers in the window, just in case he’s about to get kidnapped.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath when a very familiar pair of brown eyes meet his. Long hair and tattoos. Leather jacket just like last night. Steve would almost rather walk. But he is dressed to threaten legal action. Probably best not to show up sweaty.

Steve opens the sliding door to the back. It’s full of an alarming amount of crap. Tools, and random metal parts of something. A car? Steve doesn’t know. Wood, a small plastic lawn chair, a lawnmower, an amp for some reason-

The guy pats the passenger’s seat. “Up here, big boy.”

Steve climbs in as smoothly as he can. Just because he humiliated himself last night doesn’t mean he has to do it again.

“I’m Eddie,” the guys says. “And you’re… Steve?” He reads off the phone in his hand. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

Steve could maybe pretend he doesn’t remember. Do the whole “I’m sorry have we met?” It can be devastating if you drop it on the right person. But he’s pretty sure all he’ll get if he tries it on this guy, Eddie, is a knowing smirk.

Fuck it. “Came on a little strong,” Steve says. “Sorry, I guess.”

Eddie pulls out of the parking lot. “No apology needed. You’re not that bad a kisser.”

Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s doing, but he can’t just not set the record straight. “I’m a good kisser.” Eddie shrugs, still with that teasing grin on his face. His eyes on his rearview. “I escaped from the Yakuza because of how good a kisser I am.”

Eddie shoots him a skeptical look. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I have literally been given a car because of how good a kisser I am. A really nice car.”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, if you want to prove it we could try again. See if I’m inspired to buy you breakfast.” He chucks Steve under the chin, condescending. Steve wants to eviscerate him. He also kind of wants to take him up on it, a surge of heat spearing through his gut. What is it about this fucking guy? He bats Eddie’s hand away.

“Excuse you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we asking for permission before we grab each other now?”

“That was a one time grabbing,” Steve says. “Temporary insanity. So how about we both agree to keep our hands to ourselves from here on out.”

“Your loss.” Eddie flashes his teeth. He’s such an asshole. It’s really unfortunate how bad Steve wants to touch his dick.

There’s a closed sign on the door of the video store, and no lights on. It’s well past nine. This is no way to run a business. Steve knocks on the door, but the lights stay off.

He waits five minutes, ten, before giving up and heading down the street toward the diner. He’ll kill some time having breakfast, then try again. Chrissy’s at the counter in her perky little ponytail. He smiles when she gives him a blushy wiggle of her fingers, and takes a seat at the counter.

“Did you have a good time at the party?” she asks.

“Would have been better if you were there.” She giggles, handing him a menu. “I looked for you.”

“I had to close up.” She bites her lip, scrunches her nose. “I got there late.” She leans in across the counter and lowers her voice like she’s telling secrets. “I looked for you too.”

Steve wouldn’t mind the distraction. A no strings fling with someone like her. Someone who’d be sweet on his tongue. Soft in his arms. Not like Eddie. Eddie’s too-

Eddie pops up from behind the counter with a screwdriver in his mouth. Fucking hell. Is the guy a living jumpscare? Why is he everywhere Steve goes?

He has his hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and his jacket off. Tight Metallica tee that shows off the tattoos on his arms. Full sleeves of stark black ink that Steve doesn’t have time to pick apart before he’s making himself look down at the menu. He’s thinking about breakfast and not about rough fingers on his skin, a warm mouth wrapped around his- Nope. He’s not thinking about that.

“Flirt on your own time, Chris.” Steve looks up at the warmth in Eddie’s tone. It’s teasing, but without the edge he takes when he’s poking at Steve.

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him and smacks him on the shoulder. “Shut up, jerk. I’m not paying you to hassle me.”

“Where’s that replacement motor?” Eddie asks. She looks around, and snatches it up off the counter. He takes it, and holds on, her hand caught in his as he raises an eyebrow and says, “Be good.” They both look at Steve. He hopes they don’t think they’re being subtle.

Steve watches as they look back at each other, a whole conversation in the way Chrissy wrinkles her nose and Eddie gives his head a shake. They’re definitely fucking. So much for that distraction.

The store’s still closed when Steve gets back from the diner. This has to be deliberate. Is Robin avoiding him? Hoping he’ll go away? Joke’s on her. It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

A bunch of kids are sitting on the steps of the store, arguing with each other about Minecraft or whatever kids like.

“Anyone know why they aren’t open?” Steve asks.

One of the kids, curly haired with a trucker hat shrugs. “We were wondering the same thing.”

“Maybe she’s sick,” a red headed girl offers.

“She seemed fine yesterday,” Steve says.

“Usually you’re not sick right up until you are, so-” The red head looks at Steve with a level of withering disdain only middle schoolers are capable of.

“What are you guys even doing here?” Steve says. “Don’t you have netflix?”

“Of course we have netflix,” a lanky, dark haired scarecrow of a boy says. He runs a close second on the withering disdain meter to Red Head.

A chorus of voices overlap each other.

“Robin has lots of stuff that’s not on netflix.”

“And she lets us play DND at the store.

“We’re making a movie.”

“What kind of movie?” Steve instantly regrets asking.

Five voices start clamoring. Steve gets about three words of it. One of the words is “Demogorgon,” which he’s pretty sure is not actually a word. A smaller boy with stick straight brown hair in a truly unfortunate bowl cut holds up several weird drawings that don’t help make anything clearer.

“Did you do the window?” Steve asks the kid, ignoring the rest of the useless non-information being yelled at him. He points at the poster for Ghostbusters. It’s one of the better ones.

“Yeah,” the kid says. “I’m Will.” He points at a signature in the corner of the poster. Steve’s having a hard time not looking at his haircut. He’s pretty sure it would qualify as child abuse.

Trucker Hat grabs the stack of pictures from Will’s hand and starts laying them out on the sidewalk. The other kids start yelling again, rearranging the order and calling each other stupid, uninspired, derivative…

“We still don’t even have a hero!”

“And who’s going to play Daisy?”

“Plus the third act and-”

“But the costume has to-”

“Guys,” a good looking, dark-skinned boy says, swinging a bat in front of him. “Come on. I can play the hero.”

“You’re not a hero, Lucas. You’re a shrimp,” Trucker Hat says.

“We already decided none of us would be the hero,” Scarecrow says.

“What about him?” Red Head asks.

Steve looks up from the pictures he’d been trying to puzzle through. It’s like a very confusing comic book with no words. “What?”

“Are you like, athletic?” Will says.

“He is pretty tall,” Scarecrow admits reluctantly.

“He’s obviously not busy.”

“Can you swing a bat?” Lucas asks.

Steve isn’t sure he likes where this is going, but- “Can I swing a bat.” Steve snorts. “I played polo against Prince William. And I won.”

“They don’t use a bat in polo,” Trucker Hat points out.

“Gimme the fucking-” Steve snatches the bat out of Lucas’ hand. He puts his handbag down and spins the bat around his wrist once to get a feel for it. Then swings at the closest thing to him. Which happens to be a mailbox. With a gnome sitting on top of it.

The gnome goes flying, and keeps flying.

“Holy shit,” Lucas says. The kids watch wide-eyed as the thing sails all the way down the block and across the street. Knocking through a window with the loud smash of glass shattering.

Oops.

But still. “I told you,” Steve says, flipping the bat up and catching it one handed.

“Jesus Christ.” Trucker Hat sounds a little bit impressed, and a little bit freaked out.

“That’s the police station,” Will says, sounding more freaked out than impressed.

A few cops burst of the building.

“Run for it,” Red Head says, taking off on her skateboard with a gaggle of bicycles in hot pursuit.

By the time the cops make it down the street Steve’s the only one there. Bat in hand.

“Fucking kids.”

#my working title is #hide your diamonds hide your exes #wip wednesday #my fic #my fic: schitt's creek au #steddie fic #steddie au

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