「firefly」 | The Outsiders

Sincerely, Me [Steve × Fem!OC].

Requested by: haleighrandle. Yikesss, this is sappy. I hope you like it, though! The plot was kind of thrown together, buuuut, here it is. I made them 21 in this, and I apologize for taking so long to get it posted. 💗

❛Time is slowly etching away at his face, but strangely he feels at home in this place.❜

INSPIRATION ( in the form of quotes ) :

"You deserve a stay-up-all-night, laugh at nothing, admirable, forever lasting kind of love, from a heart as full as yours."

+

"Out of all of the things my hands have held, the best by far is you."

Sincerely, Me | Steveasia | 1969;

If someone would've asked Steve where he saw himself in four years, it definitely wouldn't have been married. In fact, standing at the alter with his family in the crowd - both blood and non-blood - felt like a dream of sorts. As he'd been getting ready, he'd continuously had Sodapop remind him that this was really happening. "Are you sure? I got the girl?" He'd asked, meeting the dancing brown orbs of his best friend, who'd chuckled in response and patted him on the back.

"You got the girl, man."

"I, Steve Randle, take you, Anastasia Lancaster, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." He glanced at the minister, hoping he'd gotten all of it right. The man nodded, signaling for Ana to continue.

"I, Anastasia Lancaster, take you, Steve Randle, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," he turned to Steve. "You may kiss the bride."

Even after the ceremony, their vows rang through his mind. He'd just married the woman of his dreams, and he couldn't be happier. With the help of the gang, he had the perfect little honeymoon planned; he'd been saving up for a while. Half of it had gone to her ring, and the other half was what he'd kept aside in faith that she'd say yes.

"You're gonna love it," he assured her as they made their way to the vehicle. He still had the beat up one he had four years ago, but some pretty big changes had been made to it. For example, it was now Army Green, and the rims looked brand new (despite the fact that they'd come from the scrap yard). She smiled widely, seating herself in the passenger seat and shaking her head a bit.

"One hint?" He looked as though he'd been shot, shutting her door and sitting in the driver's seat afterwards. He hadn't answered yet. "Just one," she added, tone full of hope.

"And give it away this soon? Nuh-uh, no way." She groaned, but the smile on her face hadn't faltered. She was sure she could get him to crack if she pestered him long enough.

"Stevieee." He glanced at her, shaking his head vigorously and trying his hardest not to meet her gaze. If he did, he wouldn't be able to say no.

"Nuh-uh, I wanna treat 'ya. I ain't gonna tell-" There they were; those bright, hazel, man-killing eyes. A softly reluctant sigh left his lips. "All right, fine." She grinned wider, satisfied that it hadn't taken much persuasion. "We're going to Florida. There's this beach my mom used to take me to, Fort Walton. I got the directions from her." He was positive that Anastasia would love it. She looked joyful, though it slowly drained from her face, worry replacing it.

"Florida's a long ways away... What if somethin' goes wrong? Are you sure you have the money? I'm fine with just stayin' home and-"

"Ana, you're gonna love it. I promise." He paused, knowing that soothing her worries wasn't quite as simple as that. "I trust you, I'm gonna need you to trust me." He placed his hand on hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze before starting the engine and heading toward their respective destination.

Anastasia was excited, but scared at the same time. The last time she'd had a serious relationship hadn't exactly gone well... and, while she knew Steve wouldn't ever intentionally harm her, the thought of giving her all to him still freaked her out. What if he changed his mind? What if she changed hers? Both parties had so many concerns, so many things to stress over, that the thought of a small getaway sounded more relaxing by the second, and was definitely something they needed.

Arriving in Florida had been a trip, that was for sure. First, he'd taken the wrong exit, having read it wrong on the paper. Neither of them had been sure if it was Exit 43 or Exit 48, and he vowed to never let his mother write something that important in ink again. Second, the first hotel they'd gone to was the wrong one. Turns out, there were two with the same name, only one was much closer to the beach houses, and one was farther away from them. They'd been unaware and had tried signing into the one farthest away.

When they finally got settled, however, Steve let out a sigh of relief. He plopped onto the bed, exhausted. Anastasia set her bag down, laughing and laying beside him. Her head rested on his chest, fingertips trailing over the soft, baby blue fabric of his t-shirt. She was thankful they'd stopped by home to change out of their wedding clothes, because sitting the entire ride in that damn dress would've certainly been a hassle. His hand ran through her golden shaded hair; the natural waves were curled more than her everyday style, and the way they gently wrapped around his fingers was fascinating to him.

"Are you happy with me, 'Stasia?"

The dialogue brought back the memory of when he'd proposed. He'd asked the same question, and upon her answer, he'd presented her with the ring. Now, he merely flickered his eyes down to meet hers, teeth latching onto his bottom lip just barely. A confused smile twitched at her lips as she sat up, eyes squinted in silent questioning. "Steve... 'course I am." She laughed. "I just married you."

"Yeah, but-" He sighed. "-are you happy with me? Like, you bein' with me ain't just out of pity or somethin'?"

"Like a charity case?" She provided, and he nodded, resulting in the furrowing of her eyebrows.

"No. I love you, marrying you is my choice. I wouldn't have made it if I didn't mean it."

"I just wanna make sure." He'd had girlfriends. Granted, not as many as Sodapop, but he'd had them nonetheless. Though none of them had been Anastasia, and he wanted to make sure she was in this as deep as he was. Her smile gradually deepened, hand moving to cup his cheek. She pressed her lips to his in a quick peck, but moments after, he brought her in for another.

He could kiss her for decades, truly, if she'd agree to it.

She returned it, his hand still running through her hair. He moved his hand from her hair, now allowing it to sit on her cheek as his eyes opened to meet her own when they pulled away. They'd go to the beach the next day, as it was already nearing dark, but right now, all he wanted to do was savor their new married life. He'd have this woman at his side for the rest of his days, hopefully, and that alone was enough to make things seem far better than before.

***

That night, as she showered and got ready for bed, he laid beneath the white cotton sheets, engrossed in his thoughts. He twirled a string that'd been ripped from his blue jeans around his index finger and, though it seemed he had a million things in mind, only one echoed throughout it:

Anastasia Lancaster,

I do.