#dalla!writes

[dallaji]

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 

“Oh, fuck.”

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #bada lee #bada lee smut #street woman fighter 2 #dalla!writes #im sorry in advance bhahaha #idk what i did

[dianadeadwing]

Dallas Liu is an amazing Zuko.

Like perfect vibes. He’s angry, he’s whiny, his voice cracks, he drew rage art of Aang and hung it on his wall right after meeting him, he disguised himself by wrapping a scarf over his eye, some random woman beat him up…

I’ve only seen three episodes and he’s perfect.

#dallas liu #atla spoilers #atla live action #atla live action spoilers #avatar the last airbender live action #spoilers #zuko #txt #I’m not going to comment on the writing #watch it for Zuko #watch it for Dallas Liu #atla #avatar the last airbender

[retquits]

a quick stardew valley ship meme for elliott & farmer dallas! they've been on my mind 💞

blank template under the cut 👇

(from what i researched, this template was originally made by a twt user named senaizuuchan, but their account unfortunately no longer exists 😔)

#my art #stardew valley #sdv fanart #sdv elliott #sdv farmer #farmer dallas #ocs #hrmmm i should really make a ship tag for them too #dalliott #dallas is my most established farmer & i've been writing little drabbles abt him and elliott - they go waaaaay back 🥺

[quizzicalwriter]

dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.8k (I got carried away.)

You’d always been Dallas’s favorite preoccupation, distracting him from everything else in life. The sweet thing he carted around whenever he hung around with the boys or found himself in the drunken den that was Buck’s on a Saturday night. You’d be there, propped on his lap with his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Not that you didn’t have anything to say besides sitting there, hell, the guys loved you. You could hold your own when it came to their wit and it made you a worthy companion for Dallas in their eyes, not to mention your inexplicable ability to put up with his shit when nobody else had before - or seemingly nobody else had been given the chance.

Normally Dallas would’ve gone for girls at the drive-in, greaser girls, or any woman he could get his hands on or who could handle his banter for longer than a minute without giving him the back of their hand. You weren’t one of them, and frankly, that terrified Dallas. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away, push you away in hopes that he’d save himself the pain of heartbreak later on he’d convinced himself he’d suffer. But he always stopped himself whenever you found yourself in his arms, gazing up at him with your doe-like eyes.

It was a difficult thing, Dallas being intimate. He was born and raised in a constant battle for survival, not showing love or producing it, but you made it easy. The longer you two had been together the longer he found himself wanting to keep you close, protect you from dangers he seemed to see everywhere. The worries you once had about him leaving eventually faded, the look in his eyes as he gazed at you whenever you laid in his arms far outweighed any ill thoughts you’d suffered with.

The only way you could describe it was ardent, laced with a deep desire that you’d never seen before in his brown eyes. A deep desire that would show itself in the bounds of the night after the two of you had disappeared together, culminating in you on his lap in his bed, hips rocking together as he kissed along your throat and down onto your chest. Or with your legs wrapped loosely around his hips, him grinding into you, you whispering sweet moans into his mouth spurring him on to do more, touch you more, please you more.

Dallas never pushed, he was always understanding whenever you pulled away. Of course, he’d have to adjust himself in his jeans, but he’d quickly pull you to his chest and press delicate kisses along your face, murmuring how much you mean to him, something he didn’t dare do in front of others. That side of Dallas was for you, nobody else, so you treasured it whenever he showed it.

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Dallas’s side on one of the couches in Buck’s bar, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Dallas was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant country music Buck played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Dallas, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Dallas’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Dallas quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Dallas caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Dallas turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Dally.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of country music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Dallas’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Dallas stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Dal-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Dallas, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Dal.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Dallas let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. Dallas had seen women before, he’d seen plenty, but none of them had ever had the effect you currently had on him. He felt his throat dry, brown eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Dallas was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Dallas, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Dal- Dal, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Dal. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! As always you can find my work over on my ao3 under the user “Unscriptural.” Thank you anon for the request! (Sorry for the late posting, or early? Wherever you are? I finished editing it and didn’t want to queue it, so here is your daily scheduled reading material.)

#dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston writing #dallas winston x reader smut #dallas winston drabble #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston smut #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston #dally winston x reader #dally winston #my work #the outsiders writing #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders #request #anon ask #the outsiders dally #the outsiders dallas

[sapphicyanli]

truly rare netflix w for casting the gayest person in the natla cast as zuko. literally couldnt get any better than this

#BEFORE ANYONE TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY I VERY MUCH ACKNOWLEDGE DALLAS LIU IS INDEED IS A GREAT AND HARDWORKING ACTOR THIS IS A JOKE #that being said #THE WAY HE SAID “come slide through the fire nation” ?!?!?!? INSANE FELLA BEHAVIOR RIGHT THERE #ian was SWEATING #the rest of natla cast seeing them flirting in every chance they get: imagine how tired we are🙄😒 #dallas liu #ian ousley #tagging this as #zukka #as well because maybe it will inspire more ppl to eventually write that actors!zukka au we all need😷 #zuko confident gay-sokka panicked gay is also kind of an underrated ish trope #mine #natla #atla #interview #🤨🏳️‍🌈❓

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

[stinkygirl009]

cuddling hcs for the greasers?

YESSSS!!! Omg I’ve been thinking about his non stop!

Dallas Winston:

Dally doesn’t feel comfortable with hugging you in public, he absolutely DESPISES people who are cuddling and all that lovey dovey crap while there are people around. But he will only do it if you are some-what alone or no one’s lookin, And he’ll have his arm thrown over your shoulder, and say something like-

“Your perfume smells good.”

Johnny Cade:

Johnny has never had any physical touch with anyone, without it having to deal with violence. But when he gets comfortable with you he starts to give small gestures like holding hands and leaning his head on your shoulder. But again like the rest of the guys, he only does this when he’s alone with you at the lot and have his arms around behind you and let you talk about what ever was on your mind<3

“I’m still listening’, go on.”

Ponyboy Curtis:

I know what you’re thinking, “THIS BOY DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHAT CUDDLING IS-“ But that’s ok, because you teach him how to! Then eventually he would have you in front of him on the ground or the same couch and have his arms wrapped around your shoulders, while you read out loud a book that you both are reading<3

Ponyboy: “You skipped a sentence.”

You: “If you critique me one more time-”

Darry Curtis:

He might be tuff looking but trust me he’s huge on cuddling with you! He’s such a softie when you guys are cuddling and I’m not even kidding. He usually likes when you lean against him and your snuggled up into his shoulder<3

“You look pretty like this.”

Sodapop Curtis:

He’s such a teddy bear when you guys cuddle, you would be hugging him and resting your head on his chest and he would pet your hair down and give a small kiss every now and then!

“Your a sweet little thing, huh?”

A/n: SORRY!!! I seriously can’t think of any other hcs for the rest of the gang😭😭

#fypage #x reader #x y/n #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders #johnny cade #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade imagine #johnny cade x reader #darry curtis #ponyboy headcanons #ponyboy curtis imagine #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis imagine #soda curtis image #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #stinkgirl009’s silly little writing<3

[coquettejohnny]

my take on the outsiders handwriting hcs💯💯

sorry guys no last name for ponyboy i cant write all that

#i cannot write fancy for the life of me i apologize #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two bit mathews #dallas winston #cherry valance #marcia the outsiders #bob sheldon #randy adderson #the outsiders headcanons

[sundayiminlove]

sleep, pretty darling [ dallas winston x f!reader ]

synopsis : you're overworking yourself with studying in preparation for exams, and dally isn't havin' it. contains : academic overachiever reader, whipped dallas winston, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, notes : first writing post on here, kinda (very) nervous!! think i'm gonna make a point to write for each greaser in effort to shoehorn my way into outsiders tumblr?? yeah??? okay, GREAT. 99% chance i post something different for dal tho. just a messy, silly little drabble. ironically wrote after not sleeping for 32 hours. i'm sorry if he's a lil ooc y'all, this is my first dal fic in give or take a year!!! he'll get there, i promise! mwah mwah hope u enjoy warnings : not proofread, we die like dally

i.

PALE BLUE EYES slant sideways, casting a brief look at you.

Your nose is scrunched in concentration over the comically large textbook laid open in your lap. You're hunched over, tracing under each printed word with your finger, thumbing down when you stop to take a note.

Dallas is preemptively annoyed. He's been leaning expectantly against the doorframe circa ten seconds ago, and you're yet to notice him. He takes one last dramatic drag from his cigarette before begrudgingly discarding it on the outsole of his shoe. The creases on on your nose tighten as you catch a whiff of the wafting smoke. Though a vehement anti-smoker yourself, you've spent enough time around the gang to guarantee your lungs at least a permanent char. Despite this, you always just have to make a big song and dance of your distaste for them, and Dally does nothing to curb the quirk of his lips into a slight grin.

You have him, hook line and sinker.

"(Y/N)," he speaks at last. His tone is firm yet without underlying aggression; one exclusively for your ears.

You perk up.

Dallas' fingers splay against his lips as if holding a phantom cigarette. "What're you doin' over here so late, huh? Was out lookin' for you."

He watches as your gaze darts to the window. Nightfall has long since kissed the apex of Tulsa, yet you hadn't a clue. You'd been there for hours, crunching equations and fruitlessly jotting down formulas. The encroaching weight of finals week had rendered both your circadian rhythm and measure of passing time nugatory.

"Borrowin' one of Darry's old textbooks," you explain, the corners of your mouth tugging into a frown. "Not exactly a monastery but it beats that old Soc-infested library, long as Two stays gone, that is."

He crosses the Curtis' living room in four smooth strides, plopping down next to you on the couch. The flimsy cushion sinks beneath him, forcing you closer to him, and for once, Dally's grateful for the pathetic old thing's lack of structural integrity.

He lifts the textbook, ignoring your whimper of protest and sets it on the coffee table. He spins the silver band on his knuckle, averting his gaze downwards. "You know, sweetheart," he pauses, choosing his words. Dally wears his worry uniquely, sparingly. "I'm not particularly likin' all of these.. these books, and.." he trails off, thumb tracing your newly-formed eyebag as if he could swipe it clean. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

Things are different. You're his girl now. And not just his pretty skirt for the night and until 7am after; no, this is serious. You're his girlfriend. His lover. It's foreign. It's enthralling.

No one had told poor Dallas that falling for you would unwind a deep vortex in his brain that noticed the trivial things, like how suspiciously little you blinked or how the vibrant pink in your cheeks had drained.

You lean into his touch with an exasperated sigh. "Dally, c'mon, don't you start this. I know it's nothin' to you, but it's finals week!" you huff. "I'll catch up on the sleep, swear it! I just, I got so much left to do here, and,"

Your defense falls on deaf ears. This has been it for weeks now; and the you-sized hole burning in his chest is only getting deeper. Dally's arms encircle your waist as he taps gently on the small of your back. "Don't give me that," he sighs. "God, baby, you're worryin' me, alright? Don't like seeing my girl so..." he fans his hand outwards.

As you tense and start to fly into another excuse, he shakes his head, mind already made. He's sparing no more of your attention. "You're comin' back to Buck's with me, alright?" His timbre leaves no room for argument, but you squirm regardless. His grip on you tightens. "And I'm making sure you get some goddamn rest."

You pout, looking over at your textbook as if it would personify and save you. "But," you start, only to be hastily shushed.

"But nothin', doll. C'mon, up ya go,"

With that, he scoops you up, one arm hooking around your legs. Your series of half-hearted protests are nullified as he secures you into Buck's old truck, movements careful yet hasty. You inevitably surrender, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean back into the torn leather.

BUCK MERRIL'S HOUSE is as quiet as Buck Merril's house is capable of being. You've never been to Buck Merril's house, so you don't find it very quiet at all.

Running his hands over the blanket, Dallas spreads it out on the floor, smoothening out the crinkles and corners. They reform almost immediately and he sighs heavily, airing it out on the pummeled mattress in defeat. If he would have know he'd be conducting a full-scale kidnapping for the sake of your rest, he might have better prepared. Might have.

So, here's the thing, right?"

There have been girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been quite a few girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been zero girls in Dallas Winston's bed that he didn't bring into it with meaningless sex on the horizons.

You're no snob and he knows this, but now, it's the principle. Dallas Winston may sleep on a mattress deficient of ample springs and no top sheet, but Dallas Winston's girl should never. In spite his hazy, rose-colored, Y/N-centric world created under this roof, he knows he has to step it up.

As soon as he hears the faucet cut off, he's off his feet. He flings himself onto the mattress, hitching one leg up as he awaits the slow creek of the door.

And there you stand.

Dallas wonders what karmic debt is being paid off for him to deserve to see you like this. His lips part as he drinks in the sight of you like a man dying of thirst. You, in his lightly wrinkled grey tee that scarcely conceals your bare thighs. Your face glistens with renew, a few stray droplets racing down your forehead and cheeks. Even trammeled by exhaustion, you knock the wind right out of him.

You wear the moonlight beautifully. It traces each feature so delicately as you sit beside him on the bed. "I'm—," you start, but pause to let a little yawn. He practically melts beside you.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a tough time, darlin'," you continue, situating under the blanket. "You were right, I'm proper beat."

He smirks, propping his head up to look down on you. "As always," he notes, tucking a fly-away hair behind your ears. You roll your eyes and give him a playful jab, to which he winces in mock affliction. "Some nerve," he hums, thumb tracing your cheek.

You look at him, lips parting gently. This isn't Dallas Winston; that infamous, no-good hoodlum from the wrong side of the tracks. This is your Dally, someone you alone have the absolute pleasure of knowing.

"That's it," he whispers as you surrender to his side, nuzzling his neck. Your eyes are heavy, faltering by the second, yet your grip on him is unyielding. He's never felt a thing like this before, and he's quickly becoming putty in your careful arms. He's content to lay awake all night, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as slumber claims you.

His gangly fingers trace idly on your back, and he knows. He will never be the same.

#the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston #dally x reader #dally winston #the outsiders #sundayiminlove #felt cute might delete later #golden slumbers #dallas x reader #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston cuddles #dallas winston imagine #matt dillon #matt dillon x reader #♪ rowan writes outsiders!!

[little-bird-of-heaven]

(affectionately)

#guess who watched the outsiders for the first time in three years #and is going to make it everyone's problem #started writing a fanfic about dallas a while ago #and just never finished it #so now i'm thinking about rewriting it and posting it here #anyways #dallas winston #dally winston #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #prism-fangirls

[fionajames]

Christmas with the Greasers; Headcanons

Hey guys these are some headcanons about the Greasers for Christmas!

Enjoy, and please send requests!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

Ponyboy

Loves Christmas.

Buys everyone books in hopes of getting them to like them more. Then has to read them because half of them can’t read to save a life.

He made everyone wait until all the others were there to open presents. 

The only one who can make a tea for Darry. 

He and Johnny team up to try and get Dally to enjoy Christmas. 

Pony goes to Church on Christmas Eve alone. Even though he no longer goes regularly, it reminds him of his parents.

Sodapop

Puts tinsel fucking everywhere.

Y’know how tinsel has like the fine little strips? Yeah, you’ll be finding bits of that in your food for weeks.

Buys everyone like lollies from the DX and writes badly spelt cards.

Puts decorations everywhere as well.

Managed to put a Santa hat on Dally’s head and doesn’t end up getting beat somehow.

But like, are you gonna punch a golden retriever? No. Not even Dally could do that.

Darry

Does this whole thing my parents do where he goes “I’m not getting up until someone makes me a cup of fucking tea.”

Enjoys watching 5 teenage boys rush to make a cup of tea while Dally just smokes a cigarette.

They have a tradition of all the gang celebrating at the Curtis house, as if they were all blood-family.

Gets everyone good presents.

Puts on Holiday Inn and White Christmas and shushes anyone who talks during during the films.

Johnny

He and Pony team up to get Dally to enjoy Christmas ofc.

Makes cookies and gives them in little packages to everyone.

Actually likes the Christmas movies Darry puts on.

Throws snowballs at socs with Dally but hides when they turn. 

Sleeps over at the Curtis house with the others ofc and doesn’t go home at all, too scared of his family.

Decorates a lot but we’ll, unlike Soda who’s just crazed.

Dally

Christmas Day is the only day Darry lets him smoke inside the house so he takes full advantage of that.

Really doesn’t see the point on Christmas.

Although, he does kind of grow to like it through the constant forceful nature of Johnny and Pony.

Gets everyone like, a pack of cigarettes or something like that. 

Threw snowballs and passer-bys.

Bought Buck a pack of cigarettes and Buck cried. One of the first hugs he didn’t immediately escape.

(I love the idea that Buck is just a sweet, lonely guy. Cause we don’t really know his personality, I headcanon him as a sweetheart).

Two-Bit

First up and is running wild in the house to wake everyone up.

Burnt himself but dropping boiling water on his like whilst trying to make Darry’s tea.

Complained about it for approximately 1.896 seconds before resuming running around whilst holding an ice pack to his leg.

Gets everyone a bottle of coke or something.

Screams happily when the Mickey Mouse Christmas specials come on.

No one is sad around Two-Bit but especially on Christmas cause he’s just an actual fucking child on Christmas.

Steve

Bought proper and good gifts but mostly so he could brag that he gave the best gifts.

Tried to suffocate Soda with tinsel when he almost ate a bit of green tinsel. 

Puts snow down Socs backs as they go past and uses Dally as a shield when they get angry.

Tries to watch the films but gets bored and makes snarky remarks throughout them.

#the outsiders #greasers #ponyboy #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis #sodapop #soda curtis #sodapop curtis #christmas #dally winston #dallas winston #johnny cade #steve randle #socs #ka’ra writes ❤️

[dallaji]

Control Freak.

♡ bada lee x reader / NSFW❗❗❗

SUMMARY: Your girlfriend doesn’t like giving up the reins, but perhaps with some gentle urging she will finally let loose. Even if it's just for a little bit.

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

CW: PORN WITHOUT PLOT (like leech rallay NO plot), established relationship, reader is a power bottom and bada is perplexed!! befuddled!!11, bada with a strap, toys.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please don't kill me for not releasing a request. (〃´▽`〃) this has been in my drafts for a while, so i decided to finish it. kind of experimental / out of my comfort zone, but hopefully still enjoyable!!1 not proofread yet btw.

————— ୨୧ —————

Bada always needed to be in control.

You had noticed when you first met her.

That particular club had never been on your radar before, but your friends dragged you along and the crowd and music were decent enough. It had only taken fifteen minutes of you dancing around strangers, the heavy bass of the music controlling the sway of your body, until a pair of magnetic eyes met yours from across the room. 

Something about her beckoned you, the anticipation blooming in your stomach. Even when her arm had snaked around your lower back, signaling to any passersby that she had staked her claim, Bada couldn’t help but glance over to her friends every once in a while; making sure they weren’t going overboard with drinking. Before she took you to her place she checked in on each and every one of them, her hand never leaving your lower back.

When Bada had invited you to watch one of her dance classes, you immediately picked up on her ability to command the room. When her students performed the taught choreo back to her, Bada's eagle-like eyes searched for any out-of-place formations or unsharp movements. If anyone was off the beat, she would make them redo the entire routine start to finish. Not in a draconian way, but with words of encouragement, only ever wanting to see them give their very best.

You noticed again on one of your first dates. After offering to cook for her that evening, Bada insisted on tagging along with you to the grocery store. She had wricked the basket from your hand straight away with a half smile. Without even needing to, she reached any tall shelf regardless. 

Once settled in your small one bedroom apartment, Bada had lurked over your shoulder with curious eyes like a patient puppy, watching you prepare the meal. Before you could even ask, she handed you whichever utensils or ingredients were needed. All that despite your constant urging to have her sit back and relax.

Instead, Bada shook her head with a bashful smile: “I want to help.” Is what she had said.

You noticed in more private settings, too. 

Whenever she made you orgasm, she would lock your legs in place and deliberately hold down the thrashing of your limbs. Bada wanted to feel you lose yourself to her, and never make you forget who got you to that point.

Her hungry gaze didn't leave your face, as if she needed to commit every expression to memory. “That’s it, baby,” She’d coax, “So good for me.”

When she wore the familiar harness with her strap-on, she immediately had you bent over in a perfect angle; a hand on the back of your neck to keep you exactly where she wanted you as she pistoned her hips against you. As soon as you got close, she would pull out with a giggle, only to move you onto your back; hoisting your legs over her shoulders to see how far she could edge you along.

Sometimes you wanted to return the favor: “Let me make you feel good,” You would whisper against her lips, Bada panting underneath you as her hands found purchase on your hips. 

Despite her unwavering dedication in keeping you pliant, you were desperate to give back to her. So you would throw a leg over her waist in a foolhardy attempt to lock her into place, and Bada followed your every motion with a lovestruck expression.

However, once your fingers pressed into her, half-lidded eyes meeting yours, her hand would curl around your wrist: sometimes dictating your motions, and sometimes just to keep a tight hold on you. A silent reminder of who is in charge.

And despite this clear-cut dynamic in the bedroom, neither of you ever cared for strict roles. It wasn’t something you had ever explicitly discussed. You worked her up just as much as she did you. Some days you were both desperate for it, one shoving the other against a wall after a long week of barely getting to see each other; other days the two of you giggled under the sheets, the early morning rise peeking through the blinds as soft pants filled the room. 

Yet the outcome was always the same. Completely surrendering yourself to her as she, almost obsessively, found new ways to have you exactly the way she wanted you.

You didn’t mind, though, as it was so inherently Bada. Soft, yet capable; kind, but forthright; sometimes shy, though always poised.

But sometimes, you wondered.

After a particularly stressful day, she would lay you down on the bed and put on her strap without you even imploring her to do so. Wearing her harness, she could sometimes come from just watching your eyes roll back as she fucked into you, the suction on the back of the strap rubbing against her mound at just the right angle. 

Other times, you pushed your hand down her harness, fingers circling her folds in an attempt to keep up with the unforgiving pace of her hips. 

But most of the time, she would hold your hands over your head or against your back, and intently watch you come undone, not paying attention to her own pleasure whatsoever. 

It almost seemed to be cathartic for her, having such a control over you when her grueling schedule was something she simply underwent. When her professional life had become hectic, she barely found the energy to say ‘no’ to things. She would come to your place with tense muscles and a tired smile, but never too tired to pull you into the bedroom with a meaningful look in her eyes. You were more than willing to give her that release. What were you if not at her disposal?

But you still wondered. You believed that, from time to time, it was healthy to let go of the reins. Perhaps finding a way to relinquish at least a little bit, allowing herself to unravel in your hold, could help her blow off steam too. 

You had an idea, and what better time to try it than today?

Bada had started her day with an early photoshoot and ended it with a filmed interview. Once she had reached your apartment, you already had takeout food laid out on the table for her. She greeted you with a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss on your lips before digging in.

With a mouthful of fried rice, she complained about unfriendly hairstylists and bad traffic, rubbing at her temples to will away a commencing headache. You listened intently before sharing your own frustrations with a project at work; Bada squeezed your hand, urging you to take a break from time to time. You chuckled at the irony. Look who’s talking.

“I have a day off tomorrow,” Bada said nonchalantly, scooping some leftover slices of beef into her bowl.

“Good thing I changed my sheets today.” You replied teasingly, stealing some of her beef.

Bada looked up at you with a mischievous grin.

Soon after you were on your bed entirely naked, panting and sensitive all over, as Bada hunched over you in nothing but her underwear. She had been teasing you relentlessly, dragging her fingernails up and down your thighs as she scattered hickeys across your skin, tonguing at each bruise she created.

"Tell me what you want, princess." She mouthed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, before her teeth pressed down in a lovebite. 

"Want to get fucked," You managed to rasp, your fingers tangling into the locks of her hair.

She hummed thoughtfully, as if she was deciding on what to eat for dinner, and you felt the reverberations against your skin: "It has been a while, hasn't it?" Her tongue licked a long stripe along the area where your cunt and thigh met, her fingertips squeezing into your quivering legs; holding them still.

It was difficult to stay focused with Bada winding you up as much as she did, but you managed to find a stable enough voice to speak: "I- I want to try something new, though..."

"Oh?” She glanced up at you from in between your legs, her mouth slick from the kisses she had left all over you.

You nodded timidly, slowly moving to sit up. Bada followed suit, watching you curiously with her hands resting atop your thighs.

From your bedside drawer you pulled a small box, quickly opening it and placing the contents on the bed. Bada raised her eyebrows.

It was a small pink bullet vibrator, and a remote.

You watched Bada do the math in her head.

“Do you want to have both…?” You almost choked on your spit, flustering not only at her suggestion but the way she seemed incredibly interested in the prospect.

“No! I want you to… wear this, while also wearing your strap,” You muttered, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Bada’s mouth formed a small ‘o’, and you continued hurriedly: “I think it would feel good, for the both of us.”

The way Bada smiled was almost cheshire-like, and she slowly pushed you down on the bed again, a newfound eagerness in her ministrations that let you breathe a sigh of relief. “Does my baby think she can handle it?” She spoke with a cloyingly sweet lilt to her voice, and you had to swallow the bratty remark on the tip of your tongue. 

Of course Bada could not conceive of herself not being able to handle it- she was still under the impression that you would be the main receiver here.

Before you could think of something to respond, Bada placed the remote and the vibrator in your hand, pressing her lips into the crook of your neck.

“Go ahead. Put it in.” She whispered, and all you could do was obey with an eagerness that left you mortified.

As her lips parted against the sensitive skin of your neck, the tip of her tongue drawing circles, your hand moved into her underwear; you rolled the bullet along the front of her heat, fingers reaching to feel the wetness of her folds. Bada hummed encouragingly, her own hands clinging onto your hips. 

You moved further down, coating the bullet with her wetness and letting it aid you when you slowly pushed it into her entrance with the tip of your finger. It earned you a soft moan from Bada, who let out a shuddered breath against your collarbones.

Before you retreated your hand, you made sure to cup her into the palm of your hand, fingers gliding along her folds. You loved how wet she got, and so fast at that. 

She sucked in a breath at your lingering touches, the sound turning into a mocking giggle. “Are you trying to tease me?”

You shuddered at the silent threat that hid behind her words, and shook your head bashfully. You promptly removed your hand, and Bada clicked her tongue in feigned indignance; but her eyes were still glazed with affection.

It was part of the game the both of you played, but you were still intent on reversing the roles at least a little bit.

Her hand came up to grab a tight hold on your face, fingertips digging into your cheeks as she forced you to meet her in a kiss. You made a desperate noise, immediately parting your lips for her as she kissed your breath away, tongue prodding against yours. 

But she ended the kiss much too soon for your liking, and you chased after her mouth. The taller girl chuckled, pushing you flat against the bed a second time by the grip she had on your face. “Patience” is all she said before moving off the bed and rummaging through the drawer for something familiar.

The strap is a similar bright pink as the bullet, and your shuddered in anticipation. You were always mesmerized from the way Bada stepped into the harness. Everything about her body language alluded to how often she wore it; she hoisted it up and expertly tightened the belts around her hips. Bada was lean, yet soft in all the right places, and the way the straps of the harness hugged around her figure complimented the subtle formation of her abs.

Nothing was ever lost on her, so Bada shot you a lopsided grin when she noticed your hungry stare. She stalked back over to you, much too patient for your liking, and climbed back to her rightful spot between your legs. You held your breath as Bada sat up on her knees, her hands curling under your thighs before she tugged you closer to her with an almost predatory look in her eyes.

She manhandled you in place, and you leaned back on your elbows in surrender. 

Her eyes raked along your figure underneath her and she leaned closer; the cold strap pressing against your navel. You subconsciously ground against it, but Bada was just beyond reach for there to be any satisfying friction.

She tilted her head playfully, a hand coming up to cradle the side of your face: “Do you want my fingers first, or can you take it?” 

You sucked in your lower lip, bringing your hands to the firmness of her stomach. “I can take it,” You responded confidently.

She hummed quietly: “Of course you can,” The look Bada gave you almost turned you into putty, and she pulled your leg around her waist, tilting her hips in such a way that the near end of the strap pressed to your folds. You wanted to rub yourself against it, but you knew better than to defy Bada in a moment like this.

Her other hand moved in between the two of you and she felt at your wetness, just as you had done to her prior. Bada, however, didn’t hesitate before drawing circles against you, your head lolling to the side with a sharp breath. She brought the strap lower on purpose, digging it between your folds before coating it with your arousal, slicking it up. 

You tried to stay still, but every slight roll of her hips had you jump at the sensitivity and you squeezed your eyes shut. That only made it worse however, as Bada took the opportunity to begin gliding the strap up and down against you, relishing in the shudders of your body. You weren’t looking, but you knew she was smiling.

She pressed a wet kiss to your collarbones and brought her hand to the base of her strap, angling her hips at your entrance. Teasingly, she prodded the tip of the strap against you and you were almost certain she was going to drag this out until she hoisted your hips onto her lap; pushing into you without a warning. 

You gasped, clutching onto her waist as you felt the strap stretch your walls. The glide was familiar enough but you couldn’t help but feel full already. You loved the way she stuffed you.

With murmurs of encouragement, Bada grabbed a hold of your hip to push in all the way to the hilt with a sharp jerk, and the movement punched a moan out of you. You clutched onto the sheets as you spread your legs further apart, and Bada greedily crowded over you.

She pulled out until just the head of the strap was still buried in you, and gave you barely a second to breathe before slamming back inside. You dug your nails into the skin of her waist with a drawn-out whine.

The pace she set was immediately ruthless; a slow retreat before punching into you, her hip bones knocking against the back of your thighs with a slapping sound. Soon you became slack jawed, almost feeling drunk on pleasure. Bada’s hands had found purchase atop your breasts, squeezing them as her hips fucked into you, your nipples peeking from between her slender fingers. 

“You take it so well,” Bada groaned, teeth gritting as she accelerated her thrusts. “It’s fucking amazing.” 

If you hadn’t initiated this with a clear plan in mind, you could feel yourself come incredibly fast this way: Bada dominating you, who was so open and willing. Your head lolled to the side as the sound of skin on skin got louder.

Through the daze of pleasure coursing through your body, your hand managed to find the remote belonging to the bullet buried inside Bada. The taller girl didn’t notice what you were reaching for, much more focused on fucking you faster and harder. 

Your fingers somehow managed to find the ‘on’-button, your body rocking back and forth as Bada fucked you, and you pressed on the first setting without warning.

Bada faltered with a curse on her lips as she felt the vibrator set off, hips momentarily freezing. She was still buried deep inside you, and you gasped. You could feel the light pulsing of the vibrating as well, and the thought made you lightheaded. 

Bada found her footing again fast enough, an incredulous laugh falling from her lips. She brusquely grabbed a hold of your face, forcing you to look at her as she stared down with fiery eyes. She slipped back into her previously unforgiven pace, almost as if she didn’t feel the vibrator at all: “You do want to— tease me.” She stated, cooing, but almost interrupting her own words with a moan as the vibrator pulsed inside of her.

You shook your head despite the grip she had on your face: “No,” You moaned breathlessly, fighting the urge to meet her thrusts because it would surely get you to your orgasm much too fast. “Jus’ wanna see you come…”

Bada groaned at your words, leaning down to meet your lips in a messy kiss that was more tongue than anything else. She angled her hips sideways, hitting into a spot that she knew could drive you crazy, this time being no different. You moaned into her mouth and she swallowed greedily, the pace of her thrusts turning faster as you felt the vibrations through her strap.

It felt so good it was dizzying, but Bada still clearly had the upper hand here, and that was not how you wanted this to go.

You moved the vibrator one setting higher. 

Bada almost keeled over at that, pressing the palms of her hands at either side of your head as her lips parted in a silent gasp. Once again her hips stuttered against you. The vibrations were stronger now: you felt it well enough through the strap buried deep inside of you. 

You watched her intently through half-lidded eyes, hands moving to her hips with the remote still in your hold, tenderly caressing along her sides. Her eyes fell shut and she wetted her lips, hips jerking in small motions as she zoned in on the pleasure. Soft gasps were slipping from you at the shallow thrusts, but you did not dare to make her go faster or deeper. The sight hanging above you was much too beautiful.

Bada snapped out of a daze, as if she could read your mind, wild eyes meeting yours. With a tight hold on your thighs, she tugged you impossibly closer to her; her body falling on top of yours, chest to chest, and then she forced her strap deeper into you with a sharp thrust of her hips. You let out a shocked gasp, ankles crossing over her lower back as she hit the spot that made your toes curl. You could feel the vibrations even stronger now, and it seemed Bada was well aware.

“Should I make you come like this? With me staying still?” There was bite to her tone, and you mentally cursed yourself for the lewd moan that fell from your lips as she gave another thrust. You had to actively fight the urge of grinding down on the strap. You knew that, if you did, you would lose this game.

Bada rested her forehead against yours as she remained frozen, watching your every expression, but you noticed her breathing growing heavier by the second.

It was the sign you needed to press the button again, activating the second-to-last highest setting of the bullet.

“FUCK!” She hissed, burying her face in the crook of your neck as her hips flinched immediately. 

You could hear her whine, a sound you rarely ever heard from her, and your mouth went dry. 

You brought a hand to the back of her head, keeping her in place as your legs remained tight around her waist, heels digging into her lower back. The vibrating was maddening for you too, already feeling a red hot tension building up in your lower stomach, and you knew well enough from alone time how strong the third setting on the remote was. 

You could tell she was still actively trying to take charge, but the soft pants against your neck betrayed her true state. Bada began thrusting in small motions, trying to get back to fucking you, but she was so clearly oversensitive from the bullet between her legs that every motion came with stutters.  

While rubbing soothing circles into her scalp, you felt her thighs clench together. Bada’s hands gripped onto the sheets, and the messiness of her thrusts became all the more apparent.

Still, you wanted to push her further.

With the hold your legs had on her, you maneuvered Bada onto her back in one swift motion. She gasped in surprise and you groaned when the strap hit deeper into you, the buzzing of the vibrator sending chills along your spine.

You sat up with an arched back and looked down at her. In turn, Bada was already staring up at you with wide, frantic eyes; her face entirely red and bangs sticking to her forehead. Her lips were parted, and even though she was entirely bewildered, the adoration was easy to read from her expression. She was looking at you as if you were the only person in the universe, almost all her bite from earlier gone.

In a last ditch effort, her hands came to grab a hold of your hips but before she could start thrusting up into you, you turned on the final and highest setting before dropping the remote next to you. 

You could see her eyes roll back, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. She was gritting her teeth, and from the way you pressed down on top of her you could feel the vibrations even clearer. With your palms pressed right above her breasts, you began to fuck yourself on her strap, your back arching even further as the pleasure ran through your body. 

Bada squeezed her eyes shut, uncharacteristically motionless under you and still hiding her moans under her palm. You promptly wrenched her hand away from her face, pinning it next to her head and you didn’t know her pupils managed to become impossibly bigger.

“Let me hear you,” You whispered on top of her, and with a particularly hard thrust you dropped your hips down on her, making Bada’s body shake.

With that encouragement, you opened her floodgates. Her thighs squeezed together below you, and the moans that began spilling from her lips were completely obscene. She was jerking her hips once again, but no longer in an attempt to fuck you into submission; instead, she was frantically chasing after the unbearable pleasure. 

Bada did not know what to do with her hands, one of them clutching onto your hip for dear life as the other balled into a fist next to her head. You angled your hips a bit differently to reach the spot that spurred you on, deftly bouncing on the strap and fucking yourself to completion.

Bada was no longer closing her eyes, staring up at you half lidded as if she never wanted to forget the sight of you on top of her. You, similarly, found her completely irresistible. Bringing your hand to her chin, you pressed your thumb to her lower lip and Bada immediately took your digit inside her mouth. 

She was clearly in a daze, intoxicated from her ecstasy, because she was barely able to suck; instead dragging her tongue messily along your finger through short moans. You dug your thumb into the hollow of her cheek, and with that Bada involuntarily jerked her hips with a groan, punching up into you. It felt as if electricity ran down your spine, and you almost felt yourself orgasm right then and there.

Her hand came up to curl around your wrist, keeping your hand in place as her eyes threatened to fall shut at how overwhelmed she felt; the buzzing of the vibrator seemingly getting louder and louder as the both of you got closer to your release. The redness of her cheeks had cascaded down to her collarbones and her eyes were uncharacteristically wet.

You pulled your thumb away, Bada whining at that once again, but you instead grabbed a hold of her face; your wet thumb smearing her own saliva across her cheek, keeping your pace on the strap steady.

“You wanna come?” You asked softly, the delicateness in your voice betraying how much of a novice you were to this dynamic.

Bada, who still seemed to be coming to terms with the switch of your positions, could only nod, though her eyes said it all: she was completely desperate.

You began gyrating your hips at that, spurring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm with heavy pants. You were feeling the familiar coil in your lower stomach, and your body was begging for release.

“Come with me,” You pleaded, and Bada tightened her hold on your wrist as she took your index- and middle finger into her mouth, moaning deeply around your digits.

Something about that sight did you in. With a few more hard drops of your hips, the sound of your ass slamming down onto the top of her thighs filling the room, you came hard. 

You dropped your head with a loud moan, fireworks coursing through your body and thighs shaking from the exertion of keeping yourself steady on top of her. In tandem with your orgasm, you felt Bada jerk violently underneath you.

She threw her head back, a silent moan stuck on her lips as your fingers slipped out of her mouth, but her grip on your wrist only tightened. Her knees came off the bed, and soon enough she was panting from the overstimulation of the vibrator still pulsing inside of her, while you were still grinding out your orgasm on her strap. 

You had half a mind to grab the remote, your own motions coming to a halt when the sensitivity became too much, and turned off the bullet.

With a lot of effort, you managed to hoist yourself off the strap; hissing at the loss of fullness. Then, you dropped yourself next to Bada, who was trying to catch her breath, thighs absentmindedly rubbing together as she could still feel the phantom sensations of the violent vibrations from the bullet.

Bada turned her head to look at you, and before you could say anything she leaned over to kiss you deeply; head tilted and lips parted. Your hand came up to cradle the side of her face as her own arms circled around your waist, pulling you close to her.

“Thank you,” She muttered against your lips, her voice laced with something deeper as she scattered lazy kisses along your jaw, and you hummed in contentment. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers blindly searching for the belts of her harness. 

“Tired…” She murmured, and you had to bite back a laugh. Now she knew how you felt after each time she had her way with you. 

Finally, you found the straps of her harness and began to unbuckle them, helping her slip out of it. Subsequently, you lowered your hand down her panties and Bada huffed a breath, still sensitive. 

You promptly removed the bullet and fixed her underwear back in place with a pat right on her crotch, purposefully forcing a reaction from her. She gasped once again, playfully glaring at you- or at least, attempting to do so. The taller girl was already on the brink of dozing off by the looks of it.

“Go to sleep,” You whispered, enveloping the both of you in a blanket with a final peck to her mouth; Bada pursing her lips a beat too late.

“You’ve got something else waiting for you in the morning…” Bada slurred with her eyes already shut.

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee smut #dalla!writes #girlies....... . . i am sorry for whatever this is #2 out of 4 works ending with bada knocked tf out #i'm becoming a one trick pony

[2knightt]

「 you are—unforgettable.」

IN WHICH—you’re them and they’re you!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ people in this fic refer to two-bit as ‘keith.’ who cuz who the FUCK says ‘he got his two-bits in🤓’ NOBODY! but in the descriptive parts he will be two-bit. ALSO IF U DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING LOOK IN THE TAGS!

Ponyboy Curtis ;

his class was gonna watch this movie before reading a book. ‘the outsiders,’ or somethin’.

it was made in the ‘80’s—he didn’t want to even watch it. watching movies in class was the worst!

ponyboy sat at his desk, head in his arms. he heard the music and looked up, chin resting on his arms.

when ponyboy seen you writing down and narrating, he could’ve sworn he died and came back to life. LIKE WHEN HE HEARD YOUR VOICEEE HE GOT A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS.

his friends beside him noticed, snickering to themselves. they shoved him, asking if that was his future partner. he just pushed them off, quietly telling them to fuck off.

when ponyboy seen you covered in the soot??? phew—he questioned his morals, man. and THEN HE SEEN YOU BEAT UP?? he was getting FED.

ponyboy came out of that school a new man.

his ears were hot, his cheeks were red, and he was already looking up edits of you. ponyboy shoved those almost broken wired apple headphones in his ears and tuned everyone out.

when he got home he ignored any questions darry and soda threw at him and immediately went to his room. ponyboy quietly closed the door before hopping into bed, pulling out his phone, and going on tiktok.

spent like a solid 30 minutes tweaking over edits of you. like full on screaming into his pillow—i’m so serious.

“darry, what the hell is that noise?”

“i dunn—ponyboy?”

“AHHH!!”

when he found out that, outside of the outsiders, you’re decades older than him he was SO HEARTBROKEN.

the gang seen him looking at photos of you and immediately started teasing him. he absolutely tried to back himself up with stutters.

“they’re how much years older than you, bro?”

“NONO HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE! KEITH, BRO, PLEASE.”

reads fanfic. look at me in the eyes and try to tell me that ponyboy motherfucking curtis doesn’t read fanfiction.

you can’t.

like bro he’s so desperate for more content of you to the point where he writes the fics he yearns for—got pretty popular to.

“why the fuck is your phone blowing up?”

“PLEASE don’t ask me any questions about it.”

he’s a freak. he knows everything about you. ponyboy’s even began to watch your interview’s about the movie. and your other movies.

literally a teenage girl.

“THEY’RE SO FINE THOUGH, PLEASE!”

“nuh-uh.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN ‘NUH-UH’?”

Johnny Cade ;

seen you when he was watching random movies at the curtis house. at first he was like, ‘wait!! they’re so me coded😛.’ it never occurred to him that you could be so cute.

he seen you crying and something in him like actually snapped.

“wait….am i getting a crush? they’re kinda…”

when he seen the equivalent of ponyboy in this universe snuggled up to you in the church he was soooo jealous.

yk that one audio where it’s like, “how long is he gon’ be talking to my WIFE.” that’s literally johnny cade when he seen that person kiss the top of your head.

“what the fuck?”

“…what do you mean?”

“nothin’. it’s just kinda bullshit that they swoop in and steal my chance😒.”

“you never had one.”

“okay, pal😐.”

heart broke when he seen you in the hospital bed btw. like was full on gripping onto a pillow with tears in his eyes.

johnny was in such denial when he seen you die😭. ‘bro, no. they literally aren’t dead.’/‘guys!! it’s just a prank!!’

when he got to the scene he was in SHAMBLES. HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. ripping his hair out, screaming, crying, allat.

“stay gold…”

“NOOOOOOO-“

was so pissed when you didn’t come back. was even more pissed when your letter was read out loud.

“HOW COULD THEY KILL THEM OFF?? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE IT!”

“johnny, it’s a movie.”

“this is so unfair. i hate movies.”

gets nervous looking at photos of you. like to the point where he tries to look up your name on pinterest before bailing mid sentence and giggling. like full on throwing his phone across the room, kicking his feet.

will talk for hours about you. thinks your the coolest character ever!! defends you like his life depends on it.

“they killed someone?”

“so?? you’re acting like you wouldn’t do it to🤣🤣 fake ahh friend.”

—

“they legit can’t stand up for themselves. you want someone like that to be out walking them streets?”

“oh, god for bid a person has trauma. and YES I DO🗣️. i hope they walk right into my arms, HO.”

all said online btw. he would never ruin his ego by speaking like this. i am a strong believer johnny cade puts up a strong front online.

johnny literally thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen. like his cheeks get so hot when he thinks about you and he gets a silly little smile on his face.

he looks at photos of you and his friends think he has a little girlfriend.

“who you textin’, johnnycakes?”

“nobody-uh!”

“c’mon—we see that smile!”

and it’s literally just you with blood dripping down your face.

Dallas Winston ;

caught a glimpse of you at some girls house he slept at. literally stopped dead in his tracks as he seen you light a cigarette before mumbling, ‘nothin’ legal, man.’

“i-uh, what movie’s this?”

“huh? oh, the outsiders. pretty good movie.”

he thanked her and threw on his jacket before speed walking to bucks place. he had to watch this movie or he’s actually lose it.

imagine buck’s bar is actually a house, kay? dallas sits his pretty little ass on that couch, flips to whatever streaming service, and turns on ‘the outsiders.’

thought it was all boring until he seen you walk into frame—mocking the main character. at that very moment he was all, ‘wait that’s kinda hot.’

seeing you help the two younger ones run away while still acting tough was so attractive to him. dallas felt like he was losing his mind.

seeing you run in after the two into the church kinda made his knees weak.

“BAE NO!”

“what the hell are you screamin’ ‘bout?”

“nothin’, buck…”

he was so scared that you’d die in the fire. (little did old dallas know am i right fellas!!!!) like i swear to god he was so scared you’d end up like the johnny in this universe.

WHEN HE SEEN YOU FIGHTINGGG. he went feral. dallas was like so flustered. he was trying so hard to hide his blush to the ghosts around him with his hair.

his flush was short lived however. seeing you cry and then literally point a gun at a cashier was lowkey whiplash for him.

“what the fuck is happening?”

dallas figured out what was gonna happen early on and started kinda tearing up. like one tear formed in his eye before he blinked it away. but he was still devastated.

WHEN DALLY HEARD SOMEONE SCREAM “they’re just a kid!” he lost it. like actually. he went limp on the couch and spaced out. like damn…his fiancé, who doesn’t know they’re his fiancé yet, really WAS just a kid.

nobody knows he likes the outsiders OR that he has a crush on you. and they CAN’T know, it’s way too embarrassing. like actually.

when he’s with the gang and he’s just casually scrolling on tiktok and he sees the tags with your name, he immediately favourites it and scrolls. he saved it for later when he’s alone.

also defends you like there’s no tomorrow.

“they were hitting on someone who had a partner??”

“okay?? fucking live a little jesus.”

—

“THEY’RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL?”

“i’m into it tho lmfao”

swears up and down that if you and him were in a room together—you’d have a crush on him. top tier delusion.

like if he gets drunk with keith, he will rant about it.

“no—hear me out. put me in a room with y/n l/n and i swear to god they’re gonna be madly in love with me.”

“no they won’t, dallas.”

“yuh-huh.”

looks at photos of you and probably has you as his pfp on his spam. includes you in every other photo dump.

Sodapop Curtis ;

seen an edit of you on tiktok and audibly gasped. full on went, “WHO IS THATT😜” went to the tags and just scrolled under it for a good long while.

he seen a angst edit of you and made up his mind that he had to watch the movie.

for the while that you weren’t on screen, he was trying to push through. he really was. but deep down—in his head he was screaming, “BORING! SHOW ME THE PRETTY ONE!!”

when sodapop seen you tending to your younger sibling he could’ve sworn he was on cloud 9.

“my turn when :/.”

WHEN SODA SEEN YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWERRR😭😭. he lost his BREATH like was full on gripping his imaginary pearls.

had to take a breather to walk around the house before unpausing the movie. had a blush across his cheeks, i can’t even lie.

when he learned that you were described as, “movie star attractive,” all he did was nod. like,

“mhm. i always knew my fiancé was good looking.”

SODA WAS APPALLED WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT YOUR PARTNER CHEATED ON YOU. like jaw was on the FLOOR.

“I COULD TREAT THEM BETTER🗣️🗣️ THEY KNOW WHERE HOME IS!!”

he is so open about his little crush in you—it’s so cute :(

“steve, look at ‘em.”

“i see them—get your fuckin’ phone outta my face.”

“aren’t they so perfect??🤭🤭”

“i guess.”

“well, BACK OFF. we’re already happily married.”

“in your dreams maybe.”

“oh my god.”

soda has you as his pfp on at least two platforms. his name on one platform is “y/n’s boyfriend (REAL!)”

seeing you run out on your siblings after they grouped you into your argument made him just wanna hug you so bad. like he just wanted to tell you it was all gonna be okay.

has a album in his photos where it’s edits of you and photos. giggles and twirls his hair as he looks at it.

Darry Curtis ;

his parents used to watch the movie all the time and you’ve always just been a life long crush of his.

like when younger darry seen you walk into frame, comforting your kid sibling, something in his head snapped.

suddenly everything was in slow motion, there were hearts everywhere, he had rose coloured glasses on, and for some reason—harps play in the background.

as darry grew up it literally never went away. whenever the outsiders comes on when he’s home he always still goes, “woah.😍😍”

like he thinks you’re so fine.

he doesn’t like watch edits, read fanfic—none of that🗣️. but if he gets asked who is celebrity crush is—your name is coming out of his mouth ASAP.

“so, darry, who’s your celebrity cru-“

“y/n l/n.”

“but they’re a character?”

“Y/N L/N.”

he has like ONE printed out photo of you in his room from years ago. he knows exactly where it is and where to hide it, but he still keeps it.

at least once every two months, when everyone’s asleep and he has no work the next day, he’ll stay up just to watch the movie.

he’ll have a budlight in his hand as he watches you absolutely DEMOLISH at the rumble.

“i always knew they’d win.”

“you’ve watch this movie a thousand times.”

“PONYBOY?!”

the gang eventually found out his little crush on you. only light teasing ‘cause they’re so scared they’ll get that darry smoke if they push him further😭😭.

“oh my god! look, darry! you’re little crush is on screen!”

“steve, i will beat some sense into you if you don’t shut up.”

“…okay, bud.”

—

“when’s the weddin’?”

“after your funeral, keith.”

“wow. hater.”

Steve Randle ;

his dad fell asleep on the couch one night with this old movie playing in the background.

steve was about to turn it off before he caught a glimpse of you offering this half naked person some cake. he was all, ‘WAITTTT🙈🙈!!’

like he seen you in that sleeveless jacket and immediately fell in love. literally was on a mission to figure out who you were.

when he did? all he wanted to do was watch the outsiders. WHEN HE SEEN YOU SCOLDING THE MAIN CHARACTER HE SOO KNEW YOU WERE HIS TYPE

“wish they’d scold me like that…damn…😞✊”

was TWEAKING SOO HARD WHEN HE SEEN YOU ALL BLOODY WITH YOUR HEAD THROWN BACK.

“…you think i look tuff?”

“YES BAE!!!”

making his name on like insta or something, “y/n’s HUSBAND.” he puts emphasis on the husband because he believes that you want him so bad.

like actually. he’s fucking delusional.

“guys…they like cake…and I LIKE CAKE! do you see my vision??”

“no??”

“man, fuck you.”

photo dumps on insta of pictures of you with the caption, “from our honeymoon 😍😍😛😛!” his friends are ripping him apart in comments btw.

WOULD GO FOR WAR FOR YOU.

“they’re actually so gross what.”

“YOU’RE GROSS!🗣️ KEEP THEM OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU FOOL!!”

—

“they have 0 depth.”

“0 depth to YOU. to ME they’re the love of my life.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

seen the outsiders when he was drunk. he didn’t remember anything that night but the cute lil’ actor who was laughing after flirting with some rich lookin’ kid.

the only thing he remembers saying that night was,

“damn—when is it MY TURN😩😞”

WENT ON A FUCKING HUNT TO FIND THIS MOVIE ISTG. he was looking up shit that didn’t even matter to the plot—so he got different movies each time.

‘cute actor flirting’

‘cute actor in old ass movie’

‘mickey mouse shirt’

‘when was mickey mouse created’

‘who is walt disney’

he got a little distracted but that’s not the point. two-bit found the movie and cried tears of joy. fell to his knees and all😭.

he immediately turned the outsiders on and waited to see you. HE WAS SOO SAD TO FIND OUT YOU HAD LIKE SUCH LITTLE SCREENTIME.

but he worked with it. he was taking SO MUCH PHOTOS OF HIS TV WHEN YOU WERE ON SCREEN LMFAO. they were all so shaky too😭😭.

doesn’t shut the fuck up about you.

“they want me so bad🤣🤣😂😂.”

“they wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, keith.”

“what if i killed myse-”

—

“they’re so find i won’t ‘em.”

“what the fuck are you saying?”

“what are YOU SAYING? back up.”

saves edits of you. he is ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON TO SAY THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT ABOUT YOU IN THE COMMENTS LMFAOOO

‘they could beat the shit out of me and i thank them :3’

‘WHAT?’

‘omg who said that’

you are his profile picture everywhere. and anywhere.

genuinely believe you’re the love of his life. i swear to god he does. KING OF DELUSION ABOVE ALL ELSE!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit matthews x reader #steve randle x reader #LUV THIS CONCEPT!!! #like you’re the movie character and he’s the real person #like idk you’re the dallas and he’s the real person giggling over u. #feels so good to write like this again!!! teehee!!

[goforshexgo]

Biblically accurate Dallas Winston

thinking about how we were robbed of seeing book accurate dally in the movie, I'm thinking about it rn. Like, dally was described to be so physically different from Johnny and even though they were so close they still behaved differently and had different personalities. I feel like their looks being so vastly different from each other was such a big thing even though it was a small thing ?? Like dally was described as almost white blond with blazing blue eyes he's described as hardened and his eyes having a hatred towards the world when Johnny is described as this innocent pitiful thing. "A puppy whos been kicked too many times." he has dark hair and tan skin and big dark eyes.

like dally represents what johnny could have become and johnny represents the same for dally

and this is just about their character symbolism not even touching on their actual relationship and what they meant to each other inside of the actual story

(these are two text I sent my friend mashed together and written in a hurry before my brain was too overwhelmed by this thought)

I need write an essay on this.

#the outsiders #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #sodapop curtis #steve randle #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #tim shepard #cherry valance #darrel curtis #dally winston #johnnycake #keith mathews #I'm loosing my mind #I need to write an essay on this #rumble fish

[quizzicalwriter]

Hi! Idk if you do headcanons but if you do can you do boyfriend headcanons for Dallas? It can be up to you to make it general things or just smut related things.

Dating Dallas HC’s

Despite what you may think, I don’t see Dallas being an overly possessive boyfriend. You two go about your business and that’s that, but the moment he catches someone flirting with you he’s bounding over and making sure everyone knows you’re his. Beyond that? He’s alright with PDA, but he’s not about to make out in front of his friends, that’s private stuff.

He’d let you wear his jacket, necklace, rings, everything. He loves seeing you in his clothing, and he’d certainly notice the moment you aren’t wearing one item that you usually do - and it’s not even for the reason you think, he’s just worried you’ll lose his stuff and he’ll have to find another one.

He has no problem remembering birthdays, anniversaries, all that jazz. He loves surprising you by remembering important dates for you. But the moment you ask him if he remembers someone you met last week he’s pulling a blank. He’ll remember eventually, but he sucks at remembering faces.

You ever need something but don’t have the money for it? Dallas does! Don’t ask where he got it, most of the time he doesn’t remember or doesn’t want you worrying about him - he doesn’t know which is worse and he ain’t about to find out.

On the topic of money, if you tried to pay him back he’d act personally offended and never accept the money. I’m talking full-on mouth dropping open, loud scoff, all of it. You’re his girl, why the hell are you trying to pay him back? Just give him a kiss or something.

Loves driving you places, and lets you control the music in reasonable amounts - meaning, you cannot play the same song over, and over. He’d let you get away with three replays max before he’s groaning and turning the radio off and tossing the mix out the window. He’d apologize afterward and buy you a new cassette.

I do not see him being a kind driver, the man has road rage and you’ve seen it. There have been multiple instances where you’ve ducked into the passenger seat and whisper-yelled at him to shut up - he never does.

The man is like a corpse when he sleeps. You want him to move over? Good luck. You’d have a better chance rolling over onto him to get sleep, he wouldn’t wake up either way unless you pushed him from the bed.

Speaking of sleep, if you’re ever cold and plaster your morgue-like hands against his back, he will shriek. His back will arch, his legs will shoot out, and he’ll throw every curse known to man your way as he moves away from your hands - your hands still end up warm.

His friends are his family and he takes their opinions seriously, I can see him genuinely fretting over their view of you if he cares enough for you. Hell, he’s got feelings for you, of course, he’s going to want his family to like you. They will, it’ll take a while to get used to their form of joking, but you’ll be at home with them and it’ll make Dallas smile.

On the subject of family, Dallas doesn’t mention his much. He might if you’re close enough, but you’re likely to get bits and pieces as time goes by until he’s sure you won’t leave either. When he finally tells you about his upbringing it hurts your heart, you’re both mentally spent by the end of it and you promise him to never mention it unless he does first. He appreciates you for it.

If you stay over at his place often enough he’ll try to make the place look more presentable. Mainly rearranging stuff that he hasn’t touched in months, maybe buying another set of bedsheets. You notice every time something changes in his room and whenever you mention it he’s happy to talk about it, even if he tries to play it off cool.

He watches you sleep, not so much in a creepy way, but it’s something he loves to do. If you talk or snore in your sleep he will imitate it in the morning. In the moment he finds it cute, but he’ll never admit it.

His version of helping you cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner is standing behind you with his chin on your shoulder, or leaning against the kitchen counter with a cigarette between his lips. The man can’t cook, maybe he could, but he likes watching you cook too much to try - that and the one time he tried to help he burnt the shit out of his hand.

If you smoke he’ll light your cigarettes or share his own, if you don’t he’ll appreciate you standing beside him while he smokes, but he ain’t gonna force you to be near him when he does - just don’t nag the man, he’s been smoking since he was a kid, I don’t think he could stop even if he wanted to.

Whenever he smokes he’ll blow the smoke to the side, always ensuring it doesn’t blow in your face. But, if the smoke follows you he’ll murmur some cliche line like “Smoke follows beauty.”

Any music he’s into he will show you in a heartbeat. He thrives on showing you things you haven’t seen yet, whether it’s movies at the drive-in he’s sneaking you into, or a cassette he snagged from a nearby store - either way, his eyes watch you for any reaction.

Definitely considers going on a walk or eating food in Buck’s T-Bird a date. You’ll have to specify what you want if you want anything different, otherwise he’s content with the routine. If you ask for something different he won’t take offense to it, but he might chide you for it.

Words aren’t his forte, actions are. He’ll try his best to be kind, but he’ll occasionally slip and might say something rude. If you can shoot back your own sarcastic quips it’ll make him swoon, he loves nothing more than someone who can fire back at him.

Likely won’t tell you that he loves you for YEARS. You can say it first, he’ll nod and likely kiss your cheek or forehead in return. You know what he means, but he’s not the type to say it until he feels absolutely certain about you. Dallas knows how he feels about someone rather quickly, but he’s wary when it comes to love. He wants to mean it, mean it in a way that scares him.

The first time he tells you he loves you will be when you’re asleep. He’ll continue doing that until one day when he randomly springs it on you. It’ll likely be around a cigarette, but you’ll be able to tell from his eyes how deeply he means it. Don’t expect him to say it often, but know that he always feels it.

A/N: This is so short, I’m so sorry. I’ve never done headcanons before, so I hope this was good! I think about Dallas’s character so much that I actually had a bit of fun with this! This is a late night post for me, but I finished it up and figured I’d post it for y’all anyways. Thank you all for the continued love and support you’ve shown me and my work!! I appreciate you all more than words could ever describe! <3

#the outsiders writing #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders dally #the outsiders dallas #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #headcanon #dallas winston writing #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston drabble #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston #dallas winston headcanons #dally winston x reader #dally imagine #dally winston #dally x reader #dally winston x y/n #dally winston headcanon #anon ask #my work #request

[zvdvdlvr]

Hii!!

I love your work, and was just wondering if you could do headcannons for Dallas Winston dating the really happy-go-lucky Curtis sister. Her and soda are twins so she’s pretty much soda but a girl. She’s very affectionate and always needs hugs and cuddles! She is really happy and excited, but also sometimes feels like she can’t be sad or angry around people she loves.

Xx Rose

being soda's twin and dating dally HC's

-> navi. | -> outsiders masterlist

-> warnings: foul language, lil angst, FLUFF, smoking, making out, getting arrested, protective brothers, sexual scenarios (no smut)

-> reader's pronouns: she/her

-> pairings: romantic!dallas winston x reader, platonic!sodapop curtis x sister!reader

-> a/n: wait i loved this request sm!! i hope i did it justice &lt;3

{💖}

JSKSJWIDJ

the curtis's were very very very VERY hesitant for you to start dating dally

what if you broke up? would the gang have to pick sides? dally or the curtis's sister?

9no its too risky

it was only when the guys could list all the times they caught dally staring at you with a fond smile and dazed eyes did they realize his feelings for you were legit

as the oldest, darry of course had to give the 'you break her heart i'll f you up, no hesitation pal'

dally sat through it all while soda watched him intently

when you were official and shit, dear god the shit you'd do

it was like

humorously atrocious

to put it into words, two-bit's shenanigans times 5

I DISRESPECTFULLY RESPECTFULLY BELIEVE

a.) soda takes it upon himself to stay up and get all the details when you come home late from a date

b.) soda gags everytime you and dally are in an embrace for a little too long

as the 'Curtis Cuddlebug', you like to hug and be touchy because you didn't have that for some time or whatever BUT soda 13929292093929381% feels weird watching you hug dally instead of him

like,

you and soda (as twins) had the closest bond of anyone in the gang

so anytime shit hit the fan, you'd find yourself going to soda and him to you

youd gossip and shit talk and fight and do all the fun sibling tingz

but then

his heart kinda sinks when he realized he hasn't cuddled w you for a couple days

but its not like he can really say anything if youre happy

MOVING ON

shotgunning. with dallas.

MEOWMEOWPURRAWOOOOGAAA

thats when you really hash out some feelz

you'll pass the blunt back and forth, staring up at the stars (youre in dall's car bc he knows ur a sucker for watching the stars and cuddling and blah blah blah)

if you had like brought a blanket or two, dallas would a hundred percent pull you into him so he could get some lovin'

dally only likes affection coming from you and you alone argue with the fucking WALL.

some days you'll just sigh and bury your head into his chest. dally'll rub your back and smiling when you squirm to get closer to him cuz bros a little touch starved

"dally?"

"yeah?"

you sigh again. "i feel like shit sometimes. a lot actually"

this makes dally a lil worried "what?"

"soda 'n i are... happy-go-lucky, y'know? we gotta be smiling all the time, always... strong; confident," you tell him

dally's absorbing your words, wondering where tf ur going with this

"but then i realize i dont wanna be strong all the time. i know soda feels the same way i just," you sniffle lightly

dally's eyebrows? through the roof. is he uncomfortable? undoubtedly.

he isnt too comfortable with the way anyone expresses emotions tbh

but will always attempt to comfort you in any way he can

"whatchu mean, doll?"

his heart flips around when he hears you choke back a sob

"means i don' wanna always be smilin' and jokin' and not be taken seriously. i fuckin'- i need a break dall. a break from everything"

dally snuffs out his joint in an ashtray he set on the car and wraps both arms around you as you cry in his arms

he didnt know any of you felt like that

wow okay

if you stayed at his place at 'his' room he's literally heart eyes at you weari g his boxers and his a t shirt

he'd just "c'mere sweetheart lemme show you how loved you are" and pull you onto him

thats about as far as you get with him and the "L'' word

dally???talks????in?????his??????sleep???????

it's so adorable i think it was one of Dillo's works but he'd be a mumbly and clingy and HOLY FU

where can i get one?

back to sussy soda

he's happy for you. he really is

but dallas is snatching up his best friend, sibling, and cuddle bug from right under his nose

soda's pretty protective idgaf

you'd still have ur gossip sessions, but soda still feels bizarre when you're with him

something changed when you and dally started dating

if (IF) dally proposed

it'd be casual

like im talking

dq date, in the middle of drinking a shake he'd pull up with

"marry me doll?"

YESS MA'AM

dally is highkey afraid of rejection, now that he's so involved with you

but you smother him in kisses to prove otherwise

i cant

i

sorry but i cant get the visual of tired!dally out of my head

specially tired!hammered!clingy!dally

he'd attatch himself to your waist when he's 🤏🏼 that close to passing out because even absolutely hammered, he knows youll take care of him

absolutely refuses to let yoy pay bail for him when he gets arrested

but dont expect him to pay bail for you either bc bro kinda poor

he'd prolly just do smth to be in the slammer with you

#couplegoals

but you will 110 percent be getting the Disappointed Look™️ from darry

soda would point and laugh

pony would just shake his head with a knowing smile

once again:

where can i get one???

#dallas winston x female reader #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston fluff #dally x reader #dally winston #dallas winston #sodapop curtis x female reader #sodapop curtis imagines #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #x reader #fluff #angst #x female reader #jules writes - 📓 🖊 #female reader #x plus size reader #x fem!reader #darry curtis #the outsiders sodapop #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #greasers #s.e. hinton #dallas winston headcanons #x curtis!reader #❧ ¡ dallysnecklace ! #❧ ¡ rose !