#steve is a HORSE GIRL

[cxrrodedcoffin]

me every time i see a picture of matthew gray gubler:

[ghostballcheese]

BIG TOP BURGER COWBOY STEVE RAAAAHHHH Steve if he came up from the ground a couple centuries earlier

His horses name is hotshot

[fangirl-docintraining]

I’d just like everyone to know that modern AU Soda and Betty bonded almost immediately because she somehow brought up Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron and that is Soda’s favorite comfort movie.

The horsegirls™️ unite

[damthosefandoms]

Soda’s twelve years old when they take Mickey Mouse from him. He’s never felt loss like this before, and it feels like his soul itself is being ripped apart.

He leaves the stables he’s supposed to be working at—he’d be just plain volunteering there if he wasn’t so good with the horses that the owner started giving him a nickel for every day he worked.

But now, now Soda’s heart is broken and he doesn’t want to be there anymore, and the truck with Mickey Mouse’s horse trailer is pulling out of the parking lot as he walks in. They tell Soda that they sold him.

So he turns on his heel and runs, and he follows that trailer damn near to the edge of town. He doesn’t look where he’s going, he doesn’t care. He runs until he can’t run anymore and then he walks until he gets blisters on his feet trying to follow it. He keeps going until he has to jump a fence and falls on his face but still gets up. He wants his horse back. they can’t take him like this. Soda has never loved anything or anyone, outside his family and friends, as much as he loves Mickey Mouse. He's the best thing Soda has, and he’s not even Soda’s, and now he’s gone, and it’s not fair.

He walks even when the sun’s shining in his eyes as he continues west, and suddenly—he doesn't know when—Steve and Two-Bit appear next to him, they’ve got Two-Bit's bike and Steve jumps off the back and asks Soda where he’s going, why’s his nose bleeding, and for once Soda isn’t bubbly or smiling. He just stares off towards the horizon and says, “They sold my horse. They sold my dang horse. I gotta find Mickey Mouse.” 

“He ain’t your—” Two-Bit starts, climbing off his bike to walk along with them, but Steve elbows him and gives him a look like, don’t. Two-Bit doesn’t, because Steve's right; it’s a miracle Sodapop isn’t sobbing right now. It doesn’t look like he has yet, and they don’t really want to deal with him breaking down all the way out here. Not when they’re gonna have to walk back through the west side on the way home. 

Hell, it’s a miracle Soda hasn’t been jumped yet, running off alone, deep into soc territory, lost like he is.

Instead, Two-Bit asks Soda if walking is really the best idea, because it's hot as hell out today, not a cloud in the sky. The sun is beating down on them, hard; and then there's that they don’t know where this truck drove off to. Actually, there’s no truck at all; no horse trailer to be seen, and yet Soda continues forward, determined to do the impossible.

“Y’all don’t get it. This is Mickey Mouse we’re talkin’ about. I ain’t just gonna give up on ‘im like that," Soda mumbles, shaking his head. He stretches his arms out and cracks his knuckles and they can tell he’s nervous, but he’s also definitely not thinking clearly. His eyes are all but glazed over and he just seems distant.

And then there's the eerie calm in his voice when he adds: “Dally’d get it. Yeah, he gets horses like I do. Y'all go get Dallas, he’ll help me out.”

And then his friends share a look, and Steve says, “Sodapop, Dally ain’t here. He's in New York. He ain't been back to Tulsa in almost three years. Look, it’s not like it’s—like it’s one of your brothers missing, y'know? And what’re you gonna do when you get there, wherever you’re goin’, huh? You gonna buy him back?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah? With what money?”

And then Soda does stop. He turns to look at his friends, and he says, “If y'all ain’t gonna help me, get lost. I’m not goin’ home without my horse.”

Then he turns on his heel and keeps walking.

“He’s lost his dang mind,” Two-Bit mumbles, shaking his head a bit, and then the boys get back on the bike and head back into town to find a payphone.

Twenty minutes later, Soda’s still walking, and he's just about reached his breaking point. He's been walking so long he's forgotten the world around him is even real. Blazing pain starts to wash over him, and his eyes are getting kinda droopy. He's sweaty and tired and dehydrated, and his legs kinda feel like jelly. 

There's a familiar rumbling of an old engine, and a red ford pickup truck pulls up as Soda drops down onto the side of the dirt road. He isn't gonna catch up to that dang truck. His heart hurts and he can't tell if it's the fact he's been walking for so long, or the heat, or the loss. His skin burns bright pink from the sunburn, and tears well up in his eyes when the truck stops and Dad asks if he's lost his damn mind, scaring everybody like this.

It's not Soda's first adrenaline crash, but it might be one of his worst to date. He lets himself breakdown right there on the side of the road on the outskirts of Tulsa, with Dad’s arm around him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“There ain't nothin' we can do. I'm so sorry, Pepsi-cola."

Late that night, Soda will be sleeping off near-heatstroke on the couch, a cool washcloth on his forehead while his parents whisper in the kitchen. They don't know Soda's awake, that he can hear every word they say.

They're scared, now. Because Soda isn’t like his brothers. Because making waves riding that horse at the stables was starting to seem like Soda’s only way out of this godforsaken town, and now he doesn’t even have that.

Mama and Dad saw Mickey Mouse as Soda's way out, his only hope at a bright future. Sodapop loved that horse so much that when he was gone, it felt like a part of his soul left with him. He isn’t ever going to forget this. He doens’t think he’ll ever really move on.

...Fifteen or so years later, a kid out in Garyville loses his horse, and he does the same damn thing.

———

read on ao3 here!

[far-away-from-tulsa]

rip sodapop curtis you would’ve loved playing star stable online

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

guys I need you to know how important soda with long hair as a kid is to me. I'm grabbin u by the shoulders. I'm shakin u. I'm absolutely rattlin ur teeth. I need u to know. I ne-

I need yall to know this is sodapop curtis forever n ever. to me.

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Horse (Discord Drabble) haven't done one of these in like a week. i'm back with a very silly Fruity Four-centric one. aaand it's too long, as per usual.

When Nancy agreed to accept some help with packing up her room for college, she didn't think that meant refereeing Robin and Eddie fighting over the contents of her wardrobe.

Thankfully, she'd already set aside the clothes she would be taking with her.

Exactly why Eddie (whose lightest coloured piece of clothing is a Hellfire shirt) and Robin (wearer of only the most oversized clothes) are snatching a baby pink cardigan back and forward, she'll never know.

Steve isn't helping, either. He isn't helping at all, really. In fact, he is currently mimicking the incoherent squabbling via Nancy's favourite teddy bear as he lounges on her bed.

"Why would you need this?" Robin demands, taking the cardigan back.

Before Eddie can answer, Nancy decides to dump the bottom drawer of her dresser on the end of the bed. The mattress bounces and Steve yelps as his silly pantomime is interrupted.

"How about you actually help me with this one?" she says, forcing a smile.

The pair turn their attention to the drawer and Robin tosses the cardigan at Steve, who hasn't so much manned the clothes as he has gradually scattered the separated piles.

"Can I have this one, please?" Eddie soon asks.

He unfurls a pastel purple t-shirt emblazoned with a white horse. The animal is surrounded by silver clouds, a rainbow and pink sequins that have loosened from extensive wear years back.

He shoots a glance at Robin, who is busy tossing old t-shirts she likely doesn't want from the drawer off towards the doorway.

"Sparkles," Eddie hisses, giving a far too cherubic smile.

"Fine," Nancy says, waving her hand.

At least he bothered with some manners this time!

"Were you a horse girl?" Robin grins, now paying attention as she lazily points to the image Eddie is now smoothing over his front.

"Major horse girl," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he slumps back on the bed and sends a bag of old shoes toppling onto the floor.

Eddie moves to the desk, the only spot in her room Nancy is waiting to pack up at the last possible moment and retrieves a pair of scissors.

"What are you doing!" she whines.

Can't he save the tailoring for when he gets home!

"I don't want this for the sleeves," Eddie snaps over his shoulder, sounding utterly offended as he continues cutting, "Or the bottom, really."

And so he rips the bottom off, tosses it on the desk and removes his black t-shirt, hurling it at Steve's head. Steve doesn't catch it as he gawks at the sight of Eddie wrestling on his too-tight, new-old (and now, mangled) horse shirt.

"Keep it together, Dingus," Robin quips, launching herself onto the bed which tips the drawer over.

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Room/character closeup #2 (going in order from most to least popular based on the poll)

~Eddie & Steve's room~

Edit bc I accidentally posted this before I meant to: spoilers ahead for my full house au, as can be expected

Did you notice the pattern on the rug bc it's important to me that you notice the pattern on the rug I spent a good bit of time searching for this one specific rug guys I'm serious about this. Is it incredibly dark humor? Yes. But it is humor nonetheless

Anyway

One of my first priorities/things I took into consideration when working on this room was that I didn't want it to be too bright or have any sort of potentially eyestrain-y patterns. Steve has suffered repeated head trauma and I wanted his room to be a safe space where he doesn't have to worry about triggering a migraine or fucking with his vision or getting dizzy just from his surroundings. Hence why they have a darker, more subdued palette than most of the other rooms (which I guess you don't know yet since this is only the second one I've shown you but just trust me on this)

Beyond that, I admittedly had a pretty difficult time trying to figure out what I could do that I felt like both Steve and Eddie would vibe with decor-wise while still being a cohesive theme

Didn't want it to lean too far either way into metalhead freak or preppy golden boy territory, and besides I do think Steve's whole aesthetic isn't entirely his own and is at least partly influenced by the expectations placed on him, so I tried to go for a fairly neutral sort of vibe here

For some reason I settled on some blue jean lookin ass wallpaper, a rug patterned with the our-dimension-version of the critters that very nearly took their lives, and a few choice items to put on the walls

First off, the ship painting

This was sort of an unexpected last minute addition, partially bc I thought it looked nice with the rest of the room and partially as a character reflection

I wholeheartedly believe that Eddie Munson would fucking love anything pirate related, he probably was a pirate for Halloween at least once growing up, and he just thinks sailing ships are super cool. Plus the painting just felt like it would appeal to a fantasy nerd lol (it reminded me of the chronicles of Narnia actually but that's not really important)

And as for Steve, at least in this au but I know I'm not the only one who thinks so, he really likes water. Being in it, on it, around it- he likes swimming (refer back to his noted complicated feelings about the pool from my basement post), he likes the beach, he likes the ocean, and he likes sailing. He hasn't been many times but I'd totally buy the Harringtons having been on a yacht or some shit at one point or another. This character note may or may not be related to both his job at scoops ahoy* and him being on the swim team in high school, which is one of those things that at this point I honestly don't know if it was at all canon or if it's just one of those headcanons that become so popular in fandom that it feels that way, and at this point I can't be bothered to fact check it

*I think either he had a prior interest in sailing-related stuff and that was part of what initially drew him to that job specifically, or that working there sparked an interest which only grew with time, like maybe some of the silly slogans and terms used in ice cream flavors and maybe even the uniform stirred his curiosity/memories of going out on the water with his folks during the summers before they decided he was old enough to be left home alone for weeks at a time, and he started looking into actual sailing and found out he really liked it. (He can't stand the uniforms now though bc they trigger traumatic flashbacks, for both him and Robin)

Next, the bass/electric guitar on the wall, which I feel is pretty self explanatory honestly. It's Eddie's (although he does offer to teach Steve how to play- haven't decided yet whether Steve takes him up on that)

And then there's the horses (photo? painting?)

This is where the whole "horse girl eddie munson" thing came from; the whole idea was initially born of me trying to decide what I could put on their wall, liking this poster and asking myself if Steve and Eddie struck me as people who were into horses. As it turns out the answer was "hell yeah" and it spiraled into an entire fic idea of its own, which can be found here. As for this au, the background of them both having a "horse girl" phase/being into the idea of cowboys is still a thing, but obviously it doesn't progress the same way as that did (steddie cowboys my beloved but these particular multiverse variants are stuck playing house with their traumatized found family and slowly realizing that they actually enjoy co-parenting >:3 and this way everyone gets to stay together)

Also, speaking of the steddie cowboys thing this inspired, Eddie is trans in the full house au but Steve is a cis man (unlike in the other au). However Steve does have some gender moments here and there, like the kids "jokingly" calling him mom and him lowkey vibing with it (oh no I'm already doubting my ability to stick to the Steve being cis plan- bigender Steve agenda where did you come from??)

But yeah basically both of them are secretly horse nerds lol and that's something they discover while they're arguing over how to decorate (aka when they agree on this poster) and end up bonding over

And now for a note about their placement in the house (specifically who they share a floor with)

I've already explained that/why I wanted them on the same floor as Dustin Lucas & Erica, although I don't think I mentioned that Lucas and Steve are really close in this au* and it goes without saying that Dustin is super close with both of them

*it just feels right to me; also Steve was the only one of his friends to come watch his basketball game and Steve did chew Eddie out about that whole situation at some point but by now everyone is pretty much on good terms

Sometimes when any of the kids- but especially any of those three- have bad nightmares or can't sleep, they bunker down in Eddie & Steve's room,* the door of which is always open (metaphorically that is, but once they start dating... well let's just say the kids better knock or they're going to have yet another reason to be scarred for life lmao)

*some may think they're too old for stuff like this but I say- fuck that. A major theme of this au is acknowledgement of how these guys have had a large portion of their childhood stolen from them and the people around them are working to help them get it back, to let them just be kids and to make them feel safer than they have in a long time, so they're allowed to be "childish" and that's going to play a part in many of the events and details of this au. The same goes for the older guys too btw; like with this example specifically if Robin or Steve is the one waking up from a nightmare they find the other and both crash on the couch together for the night. You're never too old to seek comfort from your loved ones

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[jolieeason]

WWW Wednesday: July 5th, 2023

WWW Wednesday is a weekly meme hosted by Sam at Taking on a World of Words. The Three Ws are: What are you currently reading?What did you recently finish reading?What do you think you’ll read next? What I am currently reading: While breaking into a financial network, a hacker falls for a dangerous artist.Based on the buried events of one of the largest criminal frauds in history, Paper…

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

��Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

I'm watching this interview, and George and Jayden got me in tears. Like, I'm literally tearing up. But I think all the interview is so awesome, so here are some points:

I mean, common guys, the amount of "you're the best"/"no, you're the best!" interactions between these two is unbelievable, they are giving me toothache

George saying he's an overthinker but the chemistry with Jayden was something he didn't need to think about, cause since they met, it was just there.

Jayden saying that now it feels like they have been friends for longer than Edwin and Charles. And also, mentioning the fact they were asked if they had worked together before when they knew each other for like a week.

"I'm not gonna say it was annoying—how well they get along (...)" I just know that it was annoying, like you're no lying to me, sir. They were annoying af.

George talking about Edwin's Confession: "(...) What it's great about that moment, is that it offers the best case scenario—which I would say for queer characters on screen— you don't offen see. There's often a nice dose of trauma mixed in there."

Steve about the confession: "(...) That moment need to happen in the stairs in hell. (...) Edwin didn't know if they were gonna get out so he didn't know how many chances he was going to have, and I also don't think that he believed he would have the courage to say it if they made it back"

Jayden saying he meant it when he delivered the "you're the only person I would go to hell for" line, due to how close George and him are.

George research about Boarding School culture for Edwin included things as fives and riding horses, he also mentioned hunting lmao

What they said about all the cast and the way they work together, it's too much to put it here, but my god, it's sounds so cool [27:12]

"Look, every gay man had identified with every final girl in a slasher film for the entirety of history. Like we know what it's like to live that life" [!]

Steve saying that he wouldn't have written an autistic character and put an actor whose not part of the spectrum to play it, and adding that Edwin's personality traits are a consequence of his upbringing (his mother never touched him with an ungloved hand) and the fact he lives in kind of his own little bubble. Yes sir, that just confirmed this to me in a hundred different levels.

That's all!

[heavencasteel420]

I do have an idea for a AU-ish fic set around S3, which would include a scene where Steve is venting about the Nancy breakup to Robin (who hasn’t quite come around on him yet but they’ve built a rapport), and his view of it is very much that, if he hadn’t screwed up, Nancy would have never left him for Jonathan. And Robin is like, “nah, I don’t think that’s it, I think Nancy is just a Horse Girl at heart and gets off on metaphorically convincing a skittish horse (Jonathan) to eat sugar cubes out of her hand.” And Steve is like “you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met but. That’s an interesting idea.”

[only-lonely-star]

hi! Can you do ponyboy x reader who is his girlfriend and when they are at his house they go to his room and make out with the door shut and Darry told them to never close the door then he gets up to check on them and bursts in and gets soo mad and the gang tease them so bad and think its hilarious

⁠♡ Caught ⁠♡

~ Ponyboy Curtis ~

Warnings - Nothing explicit !! This is a lighthearted story with cute and funny moments. Mention of slight drinking from the older greasers, nothing more. Puppy love-type kisses are mentioned.

Summary - You and Ponyboy have been dating for a good while when he decides to sneak you around and bend the rules for a kiss. That master plan gets shut down awfully quick.

Author’s Note - This is such a cute request, thank you!! I had so much fun writing this. Enjoy!! 🫶🏼

Word Count - 1.8k.

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You were Ponyboy’s girl. While his brothers, Darry, and Sodapop, along with the rest of the gang - felt that this was nothing but puppy love, it sure wasn’t. Ponyboy had established his feelings for you a couple of months back, leading to a sweet and romantic relationship. He would walk you to class, write small poems about you, and brush his fingers through your hair the few times you were granted privacy. It wasn't common for you two to be granted this privilege…his oldest brother, Darry was rather protective. He set up strict rules to never shut the door, and to keep in public areas. He would be fuming if he walked in one day and caught sight of you two kissing. That was for grown folks.

“Come on,” Ponyboy grinned cheekily, holding your arm and gently tugging you to his room.

The rest of the boys were scattered around the Curtis house, smoking, cracking jokes, and baking their notorious chocolate cake, admired by all of the boys. Ponyboy was positive not a single person would notice you two slipping away.

You giggled, hiding the obvious blush on your cheeks by covering your smile with your free hand. “Pony, this is so risky!”

He was smiling from ear to ear, simply just eager to have his first kiss. He'd been plotting and planning this exact moment for a while. Kissing you was his dream.

“Is not,” He retorted playfully, quietly stepping past the kitchen with you behind him.

This was perfect - Darry, Steve, and Sodapop were all occupied with that cake. Mixing the batter, pouring it into the glass pan, and then waiting for it to finish before adding icing would be more than enough time for you two to kiss.

You stepped inside his room, your eyes wandering around before spotting a photo of a horse pinned to a small bulletin board over his desk. You gasped, heading towards the photo for a better look.

“Ponyboy, I didn’t know you-!” You began to gush, Ponyboy shooting you a glare, his eyes wide. The simple hand gesture of his index finger being brought up to his lips to silence you was enough of a warning.

You stood there quiet as a mouse, glancing at the door once more to see if you’d been caught. Ponyboy took his sweet ole time trying to close it- ensuring no creaks or sudden loud noises were made. He shut it and let out a deep sigh of relief that he didn’t hear Darry’s insensitive and irritating holler going, “Keep it open, come on Ponyboy!”

He stepped to where you had ventured off towards his desk. The look on his face said it all, excitement, passion, and love. He awkwardly placed the palm of his hand onto your hip, the soft fabric of your skirt sending his heart into overdrive. He smiled at you, clearly giddy from this exciting moment.

“Are you ready?” He asked, glancing down to the bed to end the awkward stance you two were in.

You nodded eagerly, ready to have your lips on his, a way to seal yourself in this relationship with him - puppy love or not. Ponyboy gently ushered you to sit on his side of the bed, following after you. He picked up one of your hands and held it firmly between his. The touch was warm and protective.

“I’ve always wanted to do this…” Ponyboy admits with a smirk, his green eyes focused on yours intently.

“Me too,” You said in response, the butterflies in your stomach winning you over.

Ponyboy smiled, feeling his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. He leaned his head forward, your face mirroring his expression of parted lips. You felt his hand cup your jaw in an instant, the other still gently holding your hand in your lap. He didn't seem too experienced, but neither did you. You went along with his actions, pressing your lips onto his. The kiss sent a wave of yearning for more through the both of you. Ponyboy pulled his face away momentarily, his eyes sparkling as he peered into yours. His smile only seemed to grow, knowing he’d shared such a sweet moment with you.

All you managed to get out to him was a small exhale before you leaned back in to close the distance. Your eyes shot closed, the only sound being your lips grazing against Ponyboy’s. He grinned against your lips, deepening the kiss further. The kiss ended every couple of seconds just before your lips connected again. The feeling was both addicting and alluring. In this moment, Ponyboy was too caught up in the moment to put a stop to his actions. He kept leaning closer and closer until you’d been pushed so far back that you rested on the mattress beneath you. Ponyboy didn’t stop yet. The kiss only intensified from there, his hands holding him up above you as they rested on both sides of your head.

That door which Ponyboy swore would stay closed flung open, Darry standing in utter surprise. The wave of complete shock quickly turned to anger, Darry’s hand on the doorknob squeezing the life out of it. “What in the hell are you doing?!” He cried out, the immense anger he felt starting to take over.

Ponyboy instantly pulled away from you, leaving you lying on your back, the tender feeling of his kisses remaining on your lips. You sat up as well - feeling scared, guilty, but most of all - embarrassed. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d get caught the first time you'd tried kissing Ponyboy.

Ponyboy scrambled to his feet and helped you off the bed. His eyes were wide with fear. The stern glare Darry shot your way was enough to remind you to keep quiet.

“Don’t you knock?” He asked with irritation laced in his voice. Ponyboy let out a deep sigh of annoyance and paced around the area.

Dallas and Two-Bit, the self-proclaimed ‘jokesters’ of the group came running up behind Darry, peeking their heads over his shoulder to find out what had happened. The grins on their faces said it all.

Darry was too occupied trying to holler at his little brother to even care. “This door stays open. I don’t know what you were thinkin’ trying to sneak off in here!”

You sat there, scared out of your mind. Ponyboy retrieved a cigarette from his hand and quickly lit it up to help alleviate his own fear and anger.

Dallas was first to speak up, his lips forming an O-like shape as he whistled lowly. “Caught kissin’ already?” He chuckled dryly, finding genuine amusement in this humbling experience for both you and Ponyboy.

Two-Bit pushed past Darry, stepping inside the dimly lit bedroom. It was obvious he'd been laughing his ass off this entire time. His reddened cheeks gave it away. “I’ll be damned, kid, never thought you’d get a girl this early on.”

Ponyboy shot a glare his way, letting his more aggressive side slip right in front of you. He brought the cigarette from his lips and exhaled the smoke out in a huff of agitation. “Early on? You’re eighteen and still don’t got~“

“Ponyboy~” Darry’s cold voice spoke up again, some of the anger subsiding within him, “I think you best let me drive her home.”

He grumbled, cursing lightly under his breath. He noticed your frightened expression, placing a hand to the small of your back before letting out a deep exhale of frustration. “She can stay for cake.”

Darry couldn't argue on that, he came in to notify the two the cake was almost finished anyway. He stepped outside of the bedroom, Two- Bit following along, giving you and Ponyboy a bit of space after the tense moment. Everyone else was buzzing around in either the kitchen or sofa.

“Hey,” he spoke gently, his hand rested on your shoulder.

You looked up to him with a faint smile, your eyes wide and doe-like.

“Ignore ‘em,” he said with a small peck to your cheek, a bold move but an affectionate one. He gently applied pressure to your body, gesturing to step out of the room.

Once the two of you made an appearance in front of the others, they all grinned and nudged each other with a teasing smirk.

“Heard all about that little ‘kiss’ you two had,” Sodapop smiled softly, finding the situation both amusing and endearing.

This time, Ponyboy held back his smartass remarks, keeping them in his head to protect the peace. You felt small tug on your arm, turning your head to stand face to face with Two-Bit crouched down to your level. “So when’s the next little get together, hm?”

Before you could utter a real reply, he burst into laughter, finding himself to be the most hilarious guy known to mankind. “Lay off,” you snorted, your gaze shifting downwards.

Dallas returned with a few beers in hand, the bottles cold and slightly dampened from the condensation that had formed. He made his ways around the living room, handing one out to each of the guys, Darry, Sodapop, and Johnny declining.

“After seeing that, Darry, I think you might need one,” Dallas nudged him with the cold beer bottle to his bicep.

Dallas shot a glare at him, sighing before reluctantly taking the beer from his hand. “Maybe I do,” He chuckled dryly, cracking it open to take a his first swig.

Ponyboy took your hand in his, sitting on the sofa feeling a bit ashamed. He’d been told before to keep to himself and have that damn door wide open if you were alongside him. You didn’t mind the scandalous adrenaline rush of the kissed you’d shared earlier - you still craved more of his lips. The only part you disliked of this eventful night was the constant teasing. Sure, it was a little funny, but you’d never admit that… not to Ponyboy anyway. You snickered to yourself quietly, glancing to Dallas. “Got one for me?”

Dallas’s expression only seems to turn more amused than before as if this night couldn’t have gotten more entertaining for him. The others chuckled, Steve and Sodapop nudging each other like a bunch of drunkards with the occasional giggle escaping their lips. Darry shook his head and downed another sip of the beer just to add onto the teasing. The smirk on Dallas’s lips didn’t go unseen. “Sure I do,” Dallas joked, causing even Ponyboy to crack a smile.

“Come on, you can’t stay embarrassed about this forever,” You coaxed, half teasing and halfway with genuine affection. Your hand gave him three small squeezes, indicating the words ‘I love you’. He mimicked your gesture, his eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I guess…but next time we ain’t sneaking around at home,” He replied with a long and deep sigh. “We’ll go somewhere else,” He whispered lowly, that same cheeky grin on his face telling you exactly what would go down.

[imsogonesposts]

So This is Love

|| ao3 || So This is Love masterlist || steve harrington masterlist || requests are open!! || an: if anyone wants more prince steve stuff, i could totally write more stuff for him cause i love him || this is part of a series, but each fic can be read on its own ||

summary: a cinderella retelling. a girl accidentally meets the prince and gets him to fall for her. (wc:4,686)

warnings: brief mention of readers parents having passed away, no evil step family, no fair godmother/magical elements from the cinderella story

Sometimes, when Steve found the royal castle to be too stuffy, too fancy, and just too much, he found himself taking a ride out with his horse to the forest near the castle. He found the fresh air usually helped to clear his mind. He enjoyed hearing the birds chirp and seeing the animals run past him with not a care in the world. He sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to not have a care in the world. To not have to worry about his princely duties, or have to worry about the upcoming ball his parents were forcing him to have as “it’s about time you found a suitable princess, Steven.” Frankly, Steve didn’t know how he would ever be able to find the girl for him when his parents rarely ever let him leave the castle. His only way out of its massive walls was to convince his closest friends Robin and Dustin to let him out of the castle and into the woods. It was a miracle they never suggested to follow him out and watch over him. Though, maybe they could sense he needed some time to himself. He always came back from the forest in a far better mood, after all. 

“Miss, are you alright?” Steve asked, noticing a girl lying on the grassy floor, looking up at the sky. Steve knew he shouldn't talk to people when outside the castle, especially when alone, but he couldn’t resist ensuring she was okay. Something about her drew him towards her, and he honestly didn’t want to put up much of a fight.

“Oh, I’m alright, thank you,” you replied, looking up at him and raising a hand to cover the glare of the sun from your eyes. 

Steve nodded, glancing around the forest with a sigh, “you know, you shouldn’t be this deep in the forest alone,” he told you, smiling at the small laugh you let out. It was a nice sound, he thought.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, sitting up with a smile. “Besides, I’m not alone, I’m with you, Mr…?” You paused, waiting for him to reply with his name. 

Instead, he just laughed. 

“You don’t know who I am?” He asked as you shook your head “no.” 

“I mean, you do look familiar, I suppose,” you reply, your eyebrows creasing in the middle as you furrow them, almost as if trying to pinpoint where you could have possibly seen him before. 

He laughs again, “I get that a lot,” he says with a smile. “Some people call me," he pauses. "Ven,” he decides on.

“Ven? Is it short for something?” 

“Yes,” Steve replies with a shrug and a smile. He didn’t want to tell you he was the prince, at least not yet. He enjoyed being able to talk to someone without them thinking they had to watch their every word just because he was the prince. He only ever got that behavior with some of the guards and maids of the castle that practically grew up with him. It was almost refreshing. 

“So, are you from here, Mr. Ven?” You ask. 

“I, uh, work at the palace,” Steve explains. That’s close enough to the truth, right? He technically does work at the palace- as the prince.

“Really?” You ask, eyes going slightly wide. 

You have pretty eyes, Steve thought. 

“What do you do there?” You ask as he struggles to quickly think of an answer.

“I’m a guard,” he decides on. “And are you from here? Miss..?” He takes a pause as well as you tell him your name. “That’s a pretty name,” he whispers more to himself than to you.

“I’m actually the royal princess,” you joke. “Which you should know as the royal guard, of course.”

Steve lets out a small laugh, finally hopping off his horse, feet on the ground to be on the same level as you. “My apologies, Your Royal Highness, I don’t know how I could have not recognized you,” he replies with a bow. It was almost funny to him- could you really be so oblivious that you were making jokes about being the princess to the actual prince?

“Oh, you’re forgiven, Sir Ven,” you reply, standing up and giving him a curtsy. 

You’re cute, he thought. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the upcoming ball if you were in attendance, and if he could ask to meet you again. And again and again. 

He raised himself from his bow with a smile. 

“Is it nice in the castle?” You ask as you move to sit back on the grass.

Steve nods as he moves to sit across from you. “It’s quite nice,” he replies, “is it nice where you’re from?” 

You simply shrug. “It’s not the best,” you reply, picking a daisy off the grass, extending your hand towards him to pass it to him. “But it’s not the worst either. We make do with what we have.”

He takes the daisy, not quite deciding if he should smile or not. He wants to smile, as no one’s ever given him flowers before, and he thought it was a sweet gesture, but he also doesn’t want to smile due to your words. “Not the best?” He asks, twirling the daisy in his hand. 

“My step-family does their best, I suppose,” you tell him. “I just miss my parents is all.”

“Are they..?” He begins to ask before stopping himself. Dead. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“

“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. “And yes, they are.”

He picks a daisy off the grass as well, handing it to you. “I’m sorry.”

You take the daisy with a slightly larger smile. “It’s okay,” you repeat, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, placing the daisy in the spot between your hair and ear. “Do you like my new look?” You ask, pointing at the flower as he lets out a small laugh. 

“Beautiful,” he replies truthfully. Steve might not get to leave the castle very often, but he wholeheartedly believes that you are the most beautiful girl in the entire kingdom. World, even. 

You duck your head with a smile before getting up. “Well, Mr. Ven, I must get going,” you tell him, still smiling brightly. “I wouldn’t want to worry my step-family,” you tell him with a small curtsy. 

“I hope to see you again, Your Royal Highness,” he teases.

“My name will do just fine, Sir Ven,” you reply with a laugh.

He found himself enjoying making you laugh. You have a nice laugh, he found himself thinking again. 

“Forgive me for being too forward,” he starts, “but I truly do hope to see you again. Truly.”

“So do I,” you tell him with a smile before turning around, making your way home, he presumes. Away from him. 

He wished you could have stayed longer. That the two of you could have stayed in that field till the sun set and the stars began to shine. He wished more than anything that he could speak to you for longer. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” he shouts.

He smiles when he hears your small laugh. “You as well,” you shout back, further descending down the grassy hill.

***

“Oh, mother, a letter came in the mail,” your step-sister Max says, entering the parlor room, and handing it to your stepmom.

“Thank you dear,” she says, taking it before letting out a loud gasp.

“What?” You and your two step-sisters ask in unison. 

Your stepmother raises from her seat to show the three of you the letter. “It’s a letter from the royal castle!” She exclaims, handing your step-sister Vickie the letter, as she was in the middle between you and Max. 

“YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE CELEBRATION OF PRINCE STEVEN’S 18TH BIRTHDAY, IN WHICH HE WILL BEGIN THE SEARCH FOR HIS BRIDE AND OUR SOON TO BE PRINCESS” the letter read.

The date for the celebration was a week away, the invitation called it a ball open to the public, requesting guests to dress formally. 

“Oh, one of my girls could marry the prince!” your stepmom exclaims, walking in circles around the room. “Why, we’ll need to get dresses, and rent a carriage, and-“

Vickie leans into your side, whispering, “maybe you’ll see that guard you met in the forest.”

“Oh, shush,” you whisper back with a small laugh. “He’s probably forgotten all about me by now.”

Max leans into Vickie’s side now, whispering in a deep voice, “I hope to see you again,” mimicking Ven’s parting words to you. 

“You’re as beautiful as the sun,” Vickie replies in an equally as deep voice. 

You roll your eyes with a small scoff. “He didn’t say ‘as the sun,’” you reply. 

“Oh, but he did call you beautiful?” Vickie asks, laughing as you roll your eyes again.

Your stepmother turns around, stopping in front of the three of you. “What are you three giggling about? You have a ball to get ready for!” She shoos her hands away, exclaiming “Go! Go!”

“The ball isn’t for a week,” Vickie replies with a sigh. 

“So we have no time to waste,” she exclaims, clapping her hands together. “Up, up, all of you. One of my girls might marry a prince!”

Vickie nudges you with a teasing laugh. “Or a royal guard,” she whispers. 

***

“My, don’t you three look wonderful,” your stepmother exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a laugh. 

Max almost instantly began pulling on her yellow dress with a small groan, “this dress is uncomfortable,” she says with a sigh. 

“Maxine!” Her mother exclaims, rushing towards her daughter and pulling her hands away, fixing any nonexistent creases she might have left, “These dresses were a fortune! Don’t ruin them!” Your stepmother straightens herself, looking at you and Vickie, “that goes for you two as well. Do not ruin these dresses.”

The three of you nod as your stepmother sighs and opens the door of your home. “Off we go, off we go,” she says as the three of you enter a gold carriage parked outside your home. Max in her yellow dress, Vickie in her pink dress, and you in your blue one. 

“So, will you be running off to look for your guard?” Vickie whispers as you make your way. 

You shrug with a smile. “We’ll see,” you respond before stepping foot into the carriage. 

***

“Where is your sister?” Your stepmother whispers to both Vickie and Max, looking around the room for a girl in a blue ballgown. In normal circumstances, such as back in the town square, it wouldn’t be too hard to find you, but in a castle full of girls in ballgowns, finding you seemed close to impossible. 

“Probably looking for her knight,” Max jokes as your stepmother sighs. 

“Her and that boy. She met him once and she’d rather talk to him than the prince.”

*** 

Steve had been walking around the overly crowded ballroom with his head maid/best friend Robin in tow. He had told his parents it was so he could get a good feel of who was in attendance at the ball before coming to a final decision on which girl he would like to marry. But truthfully, he was only looking for one girl. A certain girl he had met in the forest who he’s half convinced truly had no idea she was speaking to the crowned prince. 

“She’s cute,” Robin whispers to Steve, pointing towards a freckled red-headed woman whose name tag displayed the name “Miss Victoria.”

“She is,” Steve nodded in agreement, continuing to glance around the room before his eyes drifted to another corner of the room, where he saw what he thought to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“You should talk to her,” Steve tells his friend lightly pushing her towards Miss Victoria’s direction before making his way towards the girl in the corner, wearing a sparkling blue dress. 

“Hello, Your Royal Highness,” he says with a bow after finally reaching you. “May I say, you're even more beautiful than I remember,” he says raising himself. He smiles at the small gasp you let out. 

“It’s you! Sir Ven, I was looking for you!” You exclaim with a laugh. 

He laughs as well, “here I am. In the flesh.”

“You know, you’re quite hard to find for a royal guard,” you tell him, “I thought you’d be adjoined at the prince’s hip or something.”

Steve can’t help but laugh a little more. “You truly don’t know who I am, do you?” He asks with a smile. 

“You’re Ven, the royal guard, no?” You ask, tilting your head as a puzzled look crosses your features. 

Steve shakes his head no. “No,” he replies, taking one of your hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I’m going to tell you a secret now, is that alright?” He whispers as you nod. 

“I’m the crowned prince,” he whispers, lightly squeezing your hand. 

“What?” You ask with a laugh as he stares at you, a smile of his own on his face. 

“I said, I’m the crowned prince,” he repeats slightly louder. 

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you whisper as he shakes his head no. “Oh my,” you put your free hand up to your mouth to suppress a small laugh before coming to your senses and dropping down to a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

Steve simply laughs, “oh, there’s no need for that, Your Royal Highness,” he teases. You internally wince at his teasing. How could you not recognize you had been talking to the prince in the forest? How could he so easily call you “Your Royal Highness,” when you were no royalty, and yet he was? 

“I apologize for that,” you mutter as he lets out another laugh. 

“No need,” he tells you. “You know, I truly meant it when I said I’d like to see you again. I enjoyed our conversation. I’m glad to see you here tonight.”

You smile at that. A smile that makes him feel warm inside. 

Steve bows once again, a hand outstretched to you. “If you wouldn’t mind, it’d do me a great pleasure if you let me have at least one dance with you.”

You take his hand with a smile, asking, “just one?”

“More to come, I hope,” Steve replies, squeezing your hand as he raises himself, leading you to the dance floor. 

When the two of you finally reach the dance floor, he places a hand on your lower back, raising your joint hands. 

You glance around the room, noticing the crowd staring at the two of you as you whisper to him, “they’re all looking at you.”

He almost laughs at the absurdity of the statement. How could they be looking at him, when he had a gorgeous girl like you as his dance partner? “Believe me, my dear,” he whispered with a smile, “they’re all looking at you,” he said, swaying across the almost blinding room with you. 

“What are you staring at?” Steve whispers after a few moments of silence, as he notices you looking at a couple dancing not too far from you. 

“That’s my step-sister,” you reply with a laugh. 

“Well, your step-sister is dancing with my guard,” Steve replies with a laugh of his own. “That’s Sir Lucas,” he informs you, “he’s a nice fellow.”

“That’s Maxine,” you reply, “me and my other step-sister call her Max, though. She’s…nice when she wants to be,” you say with a laugh.

Steve lets out a hum in response, suppressing a laugh of his own. “May I show you something?” He asks as you nod your head yes. He removes his hand from your lower back, though still holding your joint hands as he leads you out to the castle garden.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the prince?” You ask when finally away from the wide-eyed, staring eyes, still holding onto the prince’s hand.

“I worried you might treat me differently,” he earnestly replied. “It was nice to not have someone worry so much over the fact that they were talking to the prince.”

You smile at that. “I suppose you’re not as intimidating as everyone claims.”

The corner of his mouth turns up at that. “No?” He asks, lightly squeezing your hand. 

“No,” you reply with a smile, the two of you stopping at a bridge to look over the lake beneath you. 

“Won’t they miss you back at the ball? It’s in honor of you after all, for your,” you let out a small gasp. “It’s your birthday! Happy birthday Your Highness!”

The prince drops his head at that with a laugh. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” he says with a laugh. You were the first of the people in attendance at the ball to remember such a thing, and to him, it felt like you just handed him the world. “They might miss me, yes,” he whispers, turning his gaze from the lake towards you, “but honestly, I think I’d miss you if you didn’t return with me.”

He smiles at the smile that crosses your features. It almost seemed to light up your face in a way he couldn’t describe, but it was a look he wanted to memorize. He wanted to see that smile every day if he could- if you’d let him. 

“You know, I didn’t want to have this ball,” the prince suddenly confesses, glancing at the party happening indoors before looking back towards you.

The moonlight shone on you in such a perfect way, highlighting your features in a way that made him feel something likebutterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t used to such a feeling, but he thought it was a nice feeling to have. He imagined this is what his maid Nancy had meant whenever she spoke of the baker boy she knew, Jonathan.

“But, I’m glad I did, if it means I got to see you again,” he continued, raising your joint hands and placing a kiss to the back of yours.

“Does that line usually work on the other girls?” You teasingly asked with a smile. 

That teasing would be the death of him. He loved how freely you talked to him, prince or not.  

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied with a laugh. “You’re the first girl I’ve tried it on,” he says with a smile. 

He doesn’t miss the small flicker of shock that crosses your features. 

“Well,” you quietly reply, “I’m sure you could do better.”

“You’re more gorgeous than the stars,” he easily replies, nodding his head up, towards the stars that lit up the night sky. 

“Better,” you reply with a smile as he returns his gaze towards you. 

“If I may, why didn’t you want this ball?” You quietly ask as he lets out a small sigh. 

“My parents wanted the ball so I could find a princess to marry,” he replies, squeezing your still joint hand. If he was being honest, he never wanted to let go of your hand. “We finally came to an agreement that the ball may be open to the public.”

“And why did you want it open to the public?”

“Because after meeting you in the forest, I was wishing on every fallen star out there that you may appear,” he raises your hand to kiss it once more, “and that maybe my parents would meet you and maybe one day, let me…marry you. If things worked out.”

Oh. The prince wanted to marry you.

“Your Highness,” you start as he quietly interrupts you, whispering your name. 

“My name will do just fine, darling.”

“Steven,” you reply after a blink.

“Steve is fine,” he tells you with a smile, “my friends call me Steve.”

“Steve,” you quietly reply, as if testing the name out on your tongue. He quite liked hearing his name fall from your lips. 

“Steve,” you began again, a smile wide enough to take over your entire face. 

“There you are,” a red-headed girl interrupts, suddenly grabbing you by the arm. The very same girl Robin had thought was cute. Miss Victoria.

“Come on, we have to get going,” Victoria says, lightly pulling on your arm as your hand, reluctantly, releases Steve. 

“Is everything all right?” You ask as the girl continues to pull you along. 

She only nods. “Yes, yes, mother is just in one of her moods. She’s a little upset neither of us got a chance with the prince, though none of us really tried. I was talking to a maid, Max with a guard, and you with your special guard.”

Steve could almost laugh at the situation, if only the girl of his dreams wasn't currently being pulled away from him. 

“Vickie,” he hears you call, “I was talking to the prince.”

“Did he show you where your guard was?” 

That's the last thing Steve hears before you and the red-headed girl disappear back into the overly crowded ballroom. Away from him.

Steve wanted to follow after you, he truly did, but it was as if something was keeping his feet planted onto the concrete. And, try as he might, he couldn’t move so much as an inch. That was when he noticed a single glass slipper a few feet away from him. 

Suddenly, almost like magic, he could feel the muscles in his body working again as he walked towards the shoe, bending down to examine it. It was pretty, he thought. Could it have been yours? He had certainly hoped it was. Maybe if fate was on his side, he could find you again and return it to you. And with that, ask to meet you again. And maybe one day, he could ask you to be his bride. 

***

“I can’t believe you got to speak with the prince, and we just pulled you away from him,” your stepmother exclaimed with a sigh. 

It had been two days since the ball, and yet your encounter with the prince was still the topic at hand in your home. 

“His parents want him to marry a princess anyways,” you reply, “it wouldn’t have mattered in the end.”

“Oh, none of that,” she replies with a wave of her hand. “You’re a beautiful girl, you said he even told you that, surely the king and queen could be persuaded.”

That is when your step-sisters decide to join the conversation. 

“Especially because the prince is in love with her,” Max says in a sing-song voice, emphasizing the words “in love.”

You could only roll your eyes in response as you tried to hide the smile threatening to overtake your face. The prince being in love with you didn’t seem too awful of a deal, after all. 

“Aw, look at her, she loves him too,” Vickie teases.

“Oh, you’re both irritating,” you say at the same time your stepmother tells your sisters to leave you alone. 

“Now, now, girls, if she loves the prince, that is her business, not ours,” your stepmother says with a smile as you raise yourself with a huff. 

“I’m going to my room,” you announce. 

There is a knocking on the door at the same time you begin your tread up the stairs. 

“I’ll get it,” Max states, rising from her seat, and towards the door.

Her next words stop you in your walk. 

“Your Highness,” you hear her say, turning around to be met with none other than the prince himself.

He bows to your sister as she curtsies to him. “Hello,” he says with a smile. “You must be Miss Maxine.”

“You know my name?” She asks with a shocked laugh.

He only nods in response. “Your sister has told me about you. As well as one of my soldiers, Sir Lucas,” Steve adds with a wink. 

You swear you could almost see the blush that spreads across Max’s face. 

“Speaking of your sister,” the prince begins. “Is she near?”

“She is!” Your stepmother and Vickie yell at the same time, causing a laugh to escape the prince. 

“If it pleases the lady, I would love to see her,” Steve replies as you walk down the stairs. 

You lightly push Max out of the way when you finally reach the doorway, face to face with the prince again. “Hello,” you whisper. 

“Your Royal Highness,”  he says with a bow. 

You curtsy in return. “Are you never going to let me live that down?” You ask with a smile. 

“Afraid not,” he replies, raising himself with a smile of his own. “I believe you left something at the ball,” Steve whispers, turning to his side to retrieve a glass slipper from the brunet maid at his side, a guard with curly black hair to his other side. 

You can hear her whisper to him “You’re right, she is pretty,” as she hands him the shoe, Steve whispering back “I know,” with a smile. 

“My slipper!” You exclaim when he shows it to you. 

“It’s a pretty slipper,” he tells you, taking one of your hands to hand it back to you. “It only seemed fair I return it to the beautiful girl that it belonged to. If only to see her once more.”

“You came all this way just to return a slipper?” You ask with a smile. 

“And perhaps to tell you I would like to spend more time with you,” he says, his dark brown eyes looking into yours with something almost like adoration. “If you would like that as well,” he says after a brief moment of silence. 

“I thought you had to marry a princess,” you reply as he shakes his head no. 

“I was able to do some convincing,” he tells you. 

The maid to his side, the one who handed him the slipper, whispers to you, “he practically begged," as the guard laughs.

The prince shoots them both a glare as you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“Ignore them,” Steve says, turning back to you, a crinkle in his eye as he noticed your barely covered laughter. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound, even if it had only been two days since he last heard it.  

“Your parents are okay with you marrying a commoner,” you ask once more for reassurance. 

He nods his head yes, that same look of adoration in his eyes. “Well, you’re more than just a commoner,” he tells you, “but yes. And I, would like nothing more than to spend my time with you, and one day, hopefully make you my queen.”

You had to admit that did sound nice. 

And so, you nodded, whispering out a quiet “yes.”

Steve’s face broke out into a large grin as he raised your free hand, the one not holding the shoe, and pressed a kiss to it, smiling the whole way through. 

“May I?” He asked, nodding towards the shoe, smiling at your puzzled look. “May I help with the shoe?” He explains. 

You hand him the shoe with a smile. “If you’d like,” you say, turning around, silently inviting the prince, his maid, and a few guards into your home. 

“Your Highness,” your stepmother, and sisters say, curtsying in unison.

“What is it?” Steve asks, turning around to face his maid when she lets out a gasp. 

That’s when Vickie let out a gasp of her own as she rose from her seat. 

”Robin?” Vickie asks at the same time the maid tells Steve “It’s Vickie!”

“That’s the maid?” You ask your step-sister as Steve breaks out into a laugh. 

“Two birds with one stone,” he says, lightly pushing his maid, Robin, towards your sister. “Go talk, I have business to take care of.”

Steve then nods to you as you take a seat. He then gently takes your foot, delicately placing it into the shoe. “Perfect fit,” he mutters with a smile, looking up at you as if you hung up every star that filled the night sky. Maybe you did, it certainly wouldn't surprise him. 

“Perfect fit,” you repeat with a wide smile.