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cherrycocaineee · 1 year

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34. Dallas Winston - Please Don’t Be In Love With Someone Else

* Warning: smut! *

To everyone’s surprise, Tim Shepard was incredible with children especially when they were hysterically crying after hurting themselves. If it hadn’t been for your little brother, who at the ripe age of three enjoyed jumping off of high surfaces when he was alone for no more than a second, then no one would have seen this softer side of Tim. While everyone else was teasing the man as he placed a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bandage on the child’s skinned knee while whispering he’d be alright, you couldn’t help the way your heart throbbed at the scene. And that’s when it started, down at the very bottom of your beating organ the tiniest, insignificant feeling of a crush was starting to blossom. It was a silly feeling, nothing that mattered at all because there were so many things about Tim Shepard you couldn’t stand. In fact, it was so funny to you, you decided to mention it to everyone, and like you’d hoped they would, they laughed about it. Even Tim Shepard, who knew there was nothing to the little crush you harbored.

“Well at least she gave you a way to get chicks!” Sodapop laughed.

And it was all fun and games amongst everyone. Tim even walked over to you, nudging your arm lightly.

“I can take you on a date,” he snickered, “get it out of your system.”

That caused another wave of rowdy laughter throughout the house. Everyone was having such a good time poking fun at your little crush towards Tim that no one, not even you, noticed the brooding Dallas Winston huffing in the corner with a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t find your crush on Tim Shephard all that amusing, probably because he was head over heels in love with you. But no one knew, not even Johnny, who Dally was incredibly close to. You weren’t like the other broads he’d ever met, Soc or Greaser; there was something warm about the way you laughed, something gentle and caring by the way you made sure everyone ate, you were friendly even when people didn’t deserve it, and no matter how many times you cried yourself into a mess, you put other people’s emotions before your own. He found you enduring, beautiful, selfless, and absolutely amazing but he’d never admit it to anyone. Which was why he was in this situation now; having to listen to all of his friends and you talk about your crush on Tim Shepard.

Honestly, he didn’t see the appeal. So damn what if Tim was great with kids, he could do that too. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. However, as the week went by, he found himself being scolded by parents of children he made cry. It wasn’t his fault they found him scary looking or that he wasn’t nice and soothing like typical people were when it came to children. He didn’t even like kids; they cried too much, there was always drool dripping from their mouths or snot bubbling at their nose, they asked for too much, and they were annoying.

A frustrated sigh left Dally’s lips as he plopped down on the Curtis’s couch. It was a Saturday, so everyone, with the exception of you, were sitting around Darry’s house enjoying their weekend and watching terrible tv. All of them turned their attention to their pouting friend.

“What’s the matter with you?” Darry questioned.

“Nothin’,” Dally huffed, not wanting to get into his failed attempt to get along with children for your sake.

“I saw you earlier,” Ponyboy stated while spooning some eggs into his mouth, “you made some kid cry and got yelled at by their mom.”

Dally scoffed, glaring angrily at Ponyboy for even mentioning his failure.

“Why’d you make a kid cry?” Two-Bit snickered.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Dally snapped, “I was trying to impress someone,”

It all came out before Dally could even stop himself. Now they were all curiously sitting on the edge of their seats eyeing him suspiciously.

“We didn’t know you were into someone,” Steve stated, “who’s the lucky gal?”

“You aren’t that stupid, are ya?” Two-Bit laughed, “I remember a certain someone admitting they had a crush on Tim Shepard simply because he was great with kids.”

And while the scowl on Dally’s face seemed to deepen, the gears in everyone’s heads started to turn and click at the realization that Dallas Winston was desperately in love with you. So desperate that he was willing to be around sticky, stinky kids just to make you feel something, even a little bit, for him. The few times he tried were just practice runs, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you when he decided to do it for real.

“If you like her,” Johnny said, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the rumbling sound of old tv, “just tell her how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Darry stated, “she’s not actually in love with Shepard. She even said so.”

“Maybe he wasn’t listenin’,” Sodapop giggled.

He was listening, he just didn’t want you to love anyone else, no matter how much it was. He swore the next time he saw Tim Shephard he was going to kick his ass but that was no more than a silent threat considering it wasn’t his fault you felt the way you did. All he knew was he didn’t want them talking about it anymore, at any second, you would walk through that door and how unsettling would it be for you to find out Dally’s feelings while his friends are trying to give him advice. Dally always saw himself as prideful, so that would be an awful situation.

As if right on cue, you came trudging through the door in your diner outfit letting your bag drop to the floor beside the front door. Your face was contorted into exhaustion and a few of your hair were misplaced but you didn’t bother with it. Everyone stopped talking about Dally’s crush on you immediately.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, voice hoarse from all the orders you had to call out and customers you had to speak to, “How’s it going?”

“Great,” Two-Bit said, smiling brightly with no indication that they were discussing Dally’s love life, “How was work?”

“I almost quit today. I swore to myself if one more person smacked my ass, I was leaving,” you stated, rolling your eyes in the process as you plopped down beside Dally, “but Tim made it all better when he brought me some coffee during my break.”

There were two things to be mad at according to Dally: some prick smacked you on the ass without your consent and Tim made you feel better today instead of him. This was getting worse and worse.

Dally gripped the side of the couch, and he wished he had a pack of cigarettes on him because it would keep him from aggressively chewing on the inside of his cheek. While the boys seemed to notice, you didn’t and Dally was starting to think that you were irritably clueless of the situation in the room. And he couldn’t take it anymore, so he pushed himself off the couch and stormed out the house, slamming the screen door shut behind him. Your eyes widened at Dally’s sudden action. You had noticed that he had started acting weird all week; barely looking you in the eyes, not really saying anything to you, leaving when you showed up. It was like Dally wanted nothing to do with you anymore, which was painful really because you and Dally were close. Not as close as he was to Johnny but close enough.

“What’s wrong with him?” You questioned, turning to the boys who had grown eerily quiet.

“Well…” Steve started but was cut off by Ponyboy.

“He’s just havin’ a hard time tellin’ some girl he like her,” he stated.

“That’s why he’s been so upset this whole week? Because of a girl? Why doesn’t he ask her out or something? I’ve never seen him this messed up about one girl before.”

“These are all new emotions for Dally,” Darry stated, the big brother voice coming out, “we’ll just all need to be supportive however we can.”

And that left a question rumbling through your tired head: How were you supposed to be supportive and help if Dally wouldn’t even look at you?

You spent a little more time with your friends before you went to pick up your little brother, running a little later than you’d have liked. When you did arrive at your brother’s daycare to pick him up, Dally was standing beside the fence smoking a cigarette, looking much calmer than he previously was. Without hesitation, you approached him.

“Dally,” you called, voice sweet and welcoming as it was with any of your friends, “what are you doing here?”

“Figured you’d be late,” he hummed, throwing the butt of the cigarette to the ground, “so I came up here to watch your brother until you got here.”

A large grin spreaded against your lips, the sparkle in your eyes blinding in the sunlight that was starting to set. You didn’t even need to say thank you, though you said it anyway, because Dally could see it in your eyes that you were grateful that he was looking out for your brother when you made small mistakes like being late. You ran over to the teacher, the ends of your diner skirt bouncing with each movement you made, and apologized for your tardiness before collecting your brother.

“It was no trouble at all,” she chirped, “he’s a perfect child. Have you considered adopting him yet?”

It was a topic that was frequently discussed during pickups. With both y’alls parents being deceased, that left you as the sole provider for your brother even if you were barely an adult, but you’d rather die first before letting anyone other than yourself get custody of him.

“I have,” you admitted, “that’s why I’m working so much now. I need the money to start.”

“Well we’ll help however we can,” she said, then patted your shoulder and let you be on your way.

You carried your brother back over to Dally who was still waiting for you at the fence, a new cigarette sitting between his lips. He offered to walk the two of y’all home since the sun was starting to go down and it was dangerous for the two of you to be walking home alone. And by the time the three of y’all made it to your house, your brother was crying for something to eat. You invited Dally inside and he took up your offer, watching as you began to make your brother something to eat. His menu consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into triangles, they were his favorite shape and he wouldn’t eat it any other way, some carrot stick with a bit of ranch, not too much because ranch wasn’t too good for you, and pieces of strawberries cut into pieces so he wouldn’t eat the strawberry butts because he would if given the chance.

As you made your brother’s food, Dally sat across from you watching every move you made. He didn’t like kids, but he loved watching you take care of your brother. You seemed so relaxed and in the zone, that nothing else could take your focus away from taking care of the only part of your family you had left.

When you were finished making his dinner, you let him watch reruns of Scooby Doo as he ate. That left you alone with Dally until it was bedtime. Luckily you had tomorrow off so you didn’t have to worry about bath time tonight because honestly, your legs were barely staying up as it was.

“Are you hungry?” You asked Dally, quirking your head to the side.

“Nah,” he muttered, “I ate a little bit ago.”

You nodded your head.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat,” he continued, his eyes looking up to meet yours, and you could see something desperate in them that was hard to pinpoint.

“I’m not hungry,” you said, “Just tired.”

“I can leave?”

“It’s okay for now. I still have to get him ready for bed and everything.”

The muscles in his shoulders seemed to relax as he settled back into his seat comfortably. You wanted to bring up what the guys had told you earlier, about Dally being in love with someone, but you weren’t sure how. It was odd to know that there was a girl out there making Dally feel this way, he was known for casually hooking up and dumping girls left and right. The idea amused you, so you went for it.

“So the guys said something about you being head over heels for some girl,” you started off, Dally’s eyes flickering up to you, “I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

You weren’t even sure if you should continue pressing the matter, you didn’t want to make him angry. You could handle his outburst but your brother would get scared and it wasn’t something you wanted to deal with tonight. So instead, you changed the conversation.

“Well I also wanted to let you know,” you changed the topic, “we’re all going to the park on Saturday. I’ll be making lunch for everyone if you wanna join. Everyone will be there, even Tim.”

A scowl appeared on Dally’s face as he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away.

“I’m so damn tired of hearin’ that guys name,” he grumbled, keeping his voice down.

“He’s your friend,” you giggled, “What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t do anythin’ to me. I’m just tired of everyone kissin’ the ground he walks on.”

And now you were really confused because everyone was merely treating Tim Shephard like any ordinary friend.

“No one’s kissing the ground he walks on, Dally,” you argued, “he’s our friend. He’s welcome to join in on our activity if he wants to like anyone else we know. Why are you so mad at him?”

“Why are you defendin’ him?” Dally snapped, “You sleep with him? We all heard how you’re in love with him! How was he?”

By this time, your brother was looking at the two of you, inching himself behind the wall further but keeping an eye on y’all. But besides that, there were fresh tears in your eyes from the accusation being thrown at you. You couldn’t cry though, not in front of your little brother and sure as hell not in front of Dallas Winston. Instead, you gripped your hands into a fist at your side and glared at him, feeling a single tear fall from your face. For the first time ever, there was remorse and regret splashed on Dally’s face.

“Get the hell out of my house, Winston!” You snapped, “Now!”

You stormed past him and pulled the front door open; he came over to you.

“Wait,” he said, “let’s talk about this.”

“No.”

You grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pushed him out of your house before slamming the door shut. You could hear the sound of his footsteps walking down the steps. Your brother, fortunately, wasn't crying, but was still scared. Smiling, shoving your tears away, you approached him and picked him up, carrying him to his bedroom to put him to bed. He kept asking you if you were okay and you promised him that you were, even though you weren’t. After reading him a bedtime story, he was knocked out, so you retired to your room and bawled your eyes out.

A week went by and you barely left the house. Instead of dropping your brother off at daycare, you took him to the diner with you. You didn’t even go to the park with everyone like you had originally planned, and when they knocked on your door that day, you ignored them because you felt ashamed. The only one you did speak to because they had seen you walking home was Darry. He was nice enough to give you and your brother a ride home. While your brother slept, Darry asked if everything was okay and because you saw him as the parental figure you desperately missed, you told him about the argument you and Dally had at your place. Rightfully so, he was pissed off at Dally.

And when Darry saw Dally again, he let him have it.

“Are you outta your mind?!” He snapped, “If you can’t get a hold of your damn emotions, fine! But you aren’t goin’ to take it out of her. She’s too damn kind and too damn carin’.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out,” Dally argued, “but by the time I realized what I said, it was too late, she didn’t want to talk.”

“I don’t blame her. But you’re gonna make it right. You hear me, or you won’t be welcome back to my home until you sort yourself out.”

Everyone knew that Darry was serious because he never threatened to keep anyone from his house, so Dally refused to say anything that would cause a bigger hole in his relationship with Darry or anybody.

That night, Dally went to your house, hoping that you were still awake and that you would be willing to talk to him. He knocked three times on your front door before you opened up. Seeing your face for the first time in a week almost knocked the wind out of him. Even with tears, fresh and dry, streaking your tired face, you were beautiful. He wanted more than anything to grab you and kiss you, make everything alright.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, voice no longer filled with joy but with sadness.

“Can we talk please?” He asked, the word “please” rolling off his tongue foreignly.

You hesitated, not wanting to let him in at all, especially not while your brother was asleep. But you knew he wouldn’t stop, coming back everyday to talk to you, hell, he’d even show up at your job. You couldn’t have that. So you nodded and pulled the door open, gesturing for him to come inside. Dally walked through your door and you shut it again, locking it so that no one could get in.

“What do you want to talk about?” You muttered, your eyes never meeting him.

“About that night a week ago,” he replied, “I want to apologize for what I said and my actions.”

“Because you’re actually sorry or because Darry made you come over here?”

The answer was both but it didn’t seem right to tell you that. But it didn’t seem right to lie either.

“Both,” Dally admitted, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still sorry, even if Darry told me to come over. I’ve only been keepin’ my distance because I knew you didn’t want to see me.”

“And I still don’t,” you snapped out, “so you tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out.”

“Because we’re friends and because I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not good enough. Friends don’t say the shit you said to each other. So if you want me to believe your half ass apology, I’m gonna need more. For example, what the hell has been your problem lately?”

Another thing that Dally loved about you was that you could be incredibly feisty when you wanted.

You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest waiting for an answer. Dally sighed, running his hands through his hair, frustration clear.

“Fine,” he huffed, “you wanna know? I had to listen to all of you joke about your crush with Shepard while I’m sittin’ over here dyin’ to tell you that I love you. Dyin’ to tell you how much you mean to me and how I want nothin’ more than to hold you when you cry. I can’t get your laugh out of my head, I can’t sleep at night because you wander my dreams, and hell, I pray that the next time I see you, I’ll get to see your smile or hear your voice.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. You didn’t think that this girl he had been in love with could have been you. You never thought of yourself as special like that to anyone, that and your life was filled with work, taking care of your brother, and adopting him. Yeah you spent time with your friends but you never thought you’d be someone they loved.

“Y-you love me?” You questioned, your voice not louder than a mouse.

“Of course I love you,” he admitted again, “that’s why I’ve been so upset lately. And it’s no excuse for the things I said to you the other night. I shouldn’t have been so…”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I forgive you, Dally.”

A smile appeared on his face and he hugged you. Your head was buried into his chest and you couldn’t help smiling at the familiar smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne.

“And just so you know,” you continued, “a crush is a crush, Dally. Nothing more. Real love is more than some silly feeling of fascination.”

You looked up at him, your eyes twinkling up at his bright, brown eyes. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he dipped his head down and kissed you. The taste of cigarette smoke touched your taste buds when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. It was familiar and welcoming. You ran your fingers up his chest and then wrapped around his neck. He gripped your waist tight, holding you in place as the kiss heated up. Pretty soon, he was shrugging his leather jacket off of his shoulder before pushing you backwards towards your bedroom which luckily the door was open. Inside your room, Dally grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head revealing your flesh. Your breasts were almost popping out of your bra and Dally was practically drooling at the sight of it. He pushed you onto the bed gently, the covers crinkling underneath your weight. You watched as he removed his own shirt, undid his belt, before climbing back on top of you. His lips attached themselves to your neck instead of your lips. His tongue swirled around the subtle flesh of your neck causing a gentle moan to leave your lips.

“Dally,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back.

“Shh,” he whispered, grinning against you, “you’ll wake your brother up. We don’t want that.”

He pushed himself between your thighs and caused a small amount of friction against your clothed cunt. It felt like he was doing all this on purpose, to tease you, knowing that you couldn’t be loud. You bite your bottom lip hard causing a small tear in the skin. The metallic taste of blood coating her tongue. Dally unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off of your body, revealing the pretty panties you had decided to wear. Not on purpose, you were just behind on laundry and these were what you had. That didn’t stop him from grinning at the sight of them cupping the flesh of your lower half. He bent his head down and kissed the inside of your thigh, a moan leaving his throat at the scent alone.

“Dally, please,” you muttered, cheeks burning as you felt yourself grow wetter behind the fabric of your panties.

“Needy little thing,” he said, standing back up and removing his own pants and underwear.

There was no time to be wasted, both of you were craving each other so much that y’all’s skin was burning hot to the touch. Dally pressed another kiss to your lips, his fingers barely gripping your chin as he removed your panties with one hand. He threw the set to the side and moved on to your bra, unclipping it expertly. He swore he never saw anything more beautiful than you laid out before him. He laid you down, admiring every inch of you.

“So pretty,” he hummed, his head tilting as he watched you.

Your cute, little cunt was glistening with wetness and it only made him harder. He licked the drool off of his lips. He bent your legs as he positioned himself between you. Almost immediately your legs wrapped around Dally’s muscular torso; he positioned himself against your hole and rubbed his tip against your folds.The two of you moaned in each other's mouths, your eyes squeezing shut as Dally pushed into you. He was larger than you expected, wide too. With each inch of him going inside of you, your spongy walls could feel every vein that decorated him. There was a mix of pleasure and pain and you couldn’t help but bite down on his shoulder. He hissed at the erupting pain from your bite.

When he was finally inside you completely, he stopped, letting you adjust to him. You nodded your head, giving him permission and he moved. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, lips inches apart as he picked up his pace. The bed creaked from the sudden movement and the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall, luckily, not loud enough to wake your brother. Your head tilted back, giving Dally full access to your neck. He latches his lips against your flesh and leaves sloppy, open mouth kisses there; deep growls left rumbled through his throat sending a vibration up your neck. It tickled, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the sensation. Dally moved one hand to your thigh and squeezed the soft flesh.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “you feel better than I ever imagined, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you moaned, “faster, Dally.”

“Whatever my sweetheart wants.”

His pace quickened, and alongside that his thrust became harder. You could feel the tip of his cock poking your cervix. He took his hand off your thigh and placed it down on your throat, tightening his grip only enough to make you feel dazed but not enough to cut off your oxygen supply completely. With his hand on your throat, he forced you to look at him, wanting to see the dazed, fucked out expression on your face as he continued to abuse your tight pussy. Fresh tears spilled from your doe like eyes as you watched him furrow his brow, the pleasure he felt increasing with each snap of his hips.

“Only I can have you this way,” he grumbled, sweat dripping from his forehead, his hair clinging to his tanned skin, “Shepard could never make you feel like this, understand me? No one could ever make you feel like this. Got that? You belong to me.”

Normally something like that would piss you off but the way he had you pressed into the mattress with his cock practically claiming every inch of your insides made you feel intoxicated. You couldn’t even answer him when he said it, just nodding your head as drool slipped from your partly open lips.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, “can’t even speak, that’s how good I’m making you feel right now. Fuck…you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so well, doll.”

By this point, neither one of you could keep your moans down. All of your senses were dulled from pleasure and lust that you felt too drunk to care even if the neighbors heard. You were just glad your door was shut, and hopefully locked.

Dally pulled himself off of you, his hand unclamping from your neck. He picked your legs up and threw them over his broad shoulders. The sight in front of him felt almost illegal: your breasts in full, plain sight, your hands sitting tiredly beside your head tangled in the strands of your unkempt hair, the glistening sheen of sweat the coated every inch of your perfect body, and he got a full view of his cock digging deep into your cunt. His eyes rolled backwards as he rolled his hips roughly, hearty growls and moans puncturing the air as they left him. He dug his nails into your skin and you arched your back at the sensation of pain mixing with the adulterated pleasure.

“Fuck,” you cried out, fresh tears spilling over, “Dally, I’m gonna-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because he wouldn’t let you. All he wanted was to feel you cum all over him. He snuck his hand down and rubbed your aching clit in quick, circular motions as his thrust became more erratic. His eyes darkened at the sight of your body starting to shake uncontrollably, your orgasm was approaching fast and he couldn’t wait. He was greedy. He wanted the confirmation that you’d only ever cum on his cock ever, that some silly crush couldn’t compare to having him. You’d be begging for more after this was all over and that’s what he was hoping for.

“D-Dally,” you cried out, “I can’t.”

“Let go, doll,” he moaned out, “cum for me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you were shaking as your orgasm hit hard; your body arched, your pupils as they rolled backwards, your cries and moans became silent, and your hands gripped the bedding tightly. Dally’s face screwed into pleasure, too much pleasure. The sigh of you, the feeling of you tightening and soaking him, it was all too much.

“Sh-shit,” he hissed, his movements becoming sloppier with each stroke.

Your legs fell off his shoulders and he fell on top of you as the pleasure rippled through him like unsteady waves in the ocean. He buried his head into your neck, your tired arms wrapped around him as he pumped himself in and out of you.

“Sh-shit,” he cussed again, “I-I’m cumming, fuck.”

Quickly, he pulled out of you and pumped his load right onto your stomach; breathy gasp made both of you aware of the intensity of his own orgasm. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore when he was finished. He laid down right on top of you, the smell of sweat, sex, and anything else covering y’all’s senses as exhaustion lolled y’all to sleep.

Dally was first to fall asleep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling into his hair before dozing off yourself.

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sweetsreverie · 9 months

Note

could you write a drabble where darry’s girlfriend is totally adored by the rest of the boys and she’s almost motherly to them?

bro... thank you for planting this idea in my head ♡︎

pairing: darry curtis x f!reader wc: 972 warnings/notes: none

You met Darry six months ago while you were at the grocery store. You were clearly having trouble trying to reach something on the top shelf and he offered to help you, retrieving the item and handing it to you with a charming, kind smile. The two of you ended up talking in the spice aisle for nearly ten minutes before you both realized that you had places to be. Darry had scribbled his home phone number on your grocery list before leaving. Since then, you mostly saw him on the weekends when he wasn’t working, or on the rare occasion that he wasn’t totally exhausted after work, you would see him for dinner.

It took a while for him to introduce you to his brothers, and eventually the rest of their little gang. But when he did, he came to notice that the boys treated you differently than anyone else. They seemed to respect you, and they didn’t really pick on you or mess with you like they did other people. That was also partially because you seemed to take care of them, and honestly you didn’t even think much of it. You just found yourself doing little things for them here and there. It started with you cleaning up Darry’s work boots one night, and then you ironed Sodapop’s work shirt one day while he was running late for work, and you’ve helped Ponyboy with his homework on multiple occasions when he was struggling through his math homework.

It made Darry’s heart swell, especially when you took care of Ponyboy and Soda. Ever since their mom died, they haven’t had a female, or even somewhat of a motherly figure in their life. Darry could be tough on them, so having your gentle nature around was almost comforting for them.

Today you had the day off of work so you spent some time at the Curtis’ house. Darry was working so you tried to clean up the place to take it off of his shoulders. Besides, you sometimes spent the night with Darry and ate dinner with them, so you figure you might as well pull your own weight and treat the place as your own.

“You know Y/N, this ain’t even your house. You don’t have to clean up after us.” Pony says while he sits on the couch and Johnny sits on the floor near the coffee table, and the two of them were playing ‘go fish’.

“Well- I stay here enough and eat enough of yall’s food, I might as well. And I don��t want Darry to have to worry about it when he gets back from work.” You explain as you wipe down the kitchen table with a damp cloth.

Ponyboy smiles softly at that before he looks down at the cards in his hand. “Well… I know that Darry really appreciates it. He probably don’t show it or say it, but… I know he does.” Pony tells you with a little nod.

“I just know he’s got a lot on his plate, and I don’t see you boys helping him clean up much.” You say, the teasing tone clear in your voice while you grin over at Pony. Pony’s expression turns sheepish immediately, and Johnny even chuckles at your playful scolding.

Later that evening when Darry comes home, you stand in the kitchen with him while you two wait for dinner to finish cooking. After a few moments, Darry turns to you as you’re leaning against the counter.

“You know, Ponyboy told me you scolded him like a mother today.” Darry says, and you groan and shake your head.

“I did not! I was just messing with him-” You insist, and Darry laughs.

“He knows that, doll face. I just… think it’s funny. You really do take care of us.” Darry says with a little smile while he reaches for your hand.

You think about it for a second, and you realize that you really do take care of these boys.

“Well… you’re my boys. And someone’s gotta keep some order around here.” You tell Darry with a grin. You hear the front door open, and you poke your head out from around the doorway to see Sodapop and Steve.

“Aht aht, don’t bring them dirty boots in the house. Leave ‘em on the porch.” You tell the two of them, and Ponyboy laughs as they turn back around and begin to take their boots off on the porch.

When you turn back to Darry in the kitchen, the man is just grinning from ear to ear.

“What were you saying about keeping order around here?” He asks jokingly and you can’t help but laugh.

“Hell, even Dally listens to you. You must have instilled some kinda fear in him or something.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, and you move closer to Darry so you’re tucked in his side.

“But… really. Ever since our folks passed, Pony and Soda haven’t really had… a woman to care for them, or like.. A mother figure. If you know what I mean.” Darry tries to explain, and you nod while giving him a little smile.

“I understand, Darry. Really- and… I’m happy to be that for them. I know I can never replace your mom, and I don’t want to- but… I’m happy to look after them. I know it's hard for you to do on your own.” You explain to Darry, and he lets out a quiet sigh while he looks down at you with an expression of admiration.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” Darry asks, and you laugh softly.

“Yeah. Once or twice I think.” You tease him lightly before the two of you carry on with making dinner before the boys in the living room start getting too rowdy.

#the outsiders imagine #the outsiders one shot #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader

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cabby-cat · 1 year

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indie game protags

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dallysnecklace · 9 months

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Hi<3 I was wondering if you could make soft dally x Fem! reader that has adhd and they can’t focus or sleep at night . And she overthinks a lot headcanons

So, when Dallas first met you honestly he thought you were a little annoying

That’s just who he is though, honestly he finds everyone annoying at first

But when he realized the gang loved you, he knew you weren’t going anywhere and he learned to love your quirks

You have a lot of little things you do, like rubbing your hands together, bouncing your knee, biting your nails.

If he notices you doing these things, he’ll try to get you to stop, putting his hand on your knee, or holding your hands

“Hey, calm down your fine sweetheart.”

Dallas will never admit it, but he honestly loves a good cuddle

Especially if he’s really tired or drunk

But, sometimes you are just too hyper to provide these things for him, even if it’s 1 AM and you two have spend the whole night partying.

“And then this guy-“

“Doll, I know you’re real hyper right now, but I’ve gotta sleep. Just come over here I wanna hold ya.”

Eventually you give in and spend the rest of the night in his arms.

He learned to notice when your eyes drift away from his while he’s talking.

To him- this just means you need to be brought down to earth

He does this in two ways, either just kissing you out of nowhere, or starts to talk about crazy shit so when you finally get out of it, you start laughing and are super confused

He knows that you overthink a lot.

Especially about your relationship with him

He knows his reputation, and how it gets to you sometimes

“Do you love me Dal?”

“Doll, why are you even askin’ me that?”

“I don’t know”

“Of course I love you, you fuckin idiot”

His terms of endearment for you range a lot.

Either it’s very sweet like honey, baby doll, doll, etc.

It’s idiot, pinhead, kid.

You find both cute.

All in all, y’all are pretty cute and kinda goals

#the outsiders imagine #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders oneshot #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston headcanons

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cuubism · 10 months

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literally just smut, dreamling, prince/knight dynamic, uh. lowkey virginity kink. lowkey degradation kink. yeah.

The war camp is dark, the tent only barely lit by a few scant candles, but Hob is wide awake.

It had been a fantastically successful battle, that day. Much needed after a string of losses. They’d absolutely destroyed the enemy, Hob’s only just managed to clean most of the blood off himself—and he’s still riding that high hours later, blood pumping, restless energy racing as he occupies himself cleaning his armor and his sword.

Technically, he could get someone else to do these menial tasks. He’s a knight, he’s of high enough rank to request it. But Hob’s always believed a man should tend to his own weapons, should know every piece of them. It’s the same reason he takes care of his own horse, and his own tack.

Besides, the repetitive motion of the cleaning is taking the edge off.

There’s another thing that can cut the edge of the battle high.

Sex.

How fortunate, then, that Hob is on good terms with so many of the working ladies of the camp.

Not that it’s really so hard to be on good terms. The bar is so low that simply not behaving like a total dick seems to do the trick—but the fact remains that when Hob calls for one of the messenger boys who hang around outside to send for whoever’s working that night, he knows someone will come by. He pays them well, he gets along with most everyone, and it’s really not that hard to get one’s prick wet under those circumstances.

He’s just finished oiling the final leather straps on his armor, is hanging it up to await the next fight, when he hears the entrance flap of the tent, to his back, swish open and shut again. The rush of cool night air into the warm, close space.

“Be right with you, luv,” he calls, tying off the last strap, and a deep, sonorous voice responds—

“Please, take your time, Ser Gadling.”

Hob whirls around, nearly falls over like a buffoon he goes so fast. Standing there is not one of the working girls he’s come to know. It is, in fact, Prince fucking Morpheus, dark hair tousled by the wind, wrapped in a long velvet cloak that sparkles like stardust where the light catches it.

“My prince,” Hob stammers, trying to decide whether he’s meant to bow and managing only a dip of the head. It’s Prince Morpheus’s fault, this awkwardness, Hob would have managed with perfect politeness the sudden arrival of one of his siblings, or even the King himself. It’s only Morpheus that fells him so. “I—”

“—called for a whore?” Morpheus finishes, quirking a brow. Hob can only describe the look in his eyes as mischievous.

Anything Hob might have possibly managed to say is derailed by the rush of interest to his dick. That look, that phrase in Morpheus’s pretty, proper mouth— and what is he implying—?

“That’s… not the word I’d use,” Hob finally manages, throat tight. “Did. Did you need something, my prince?”

“As I’ve said,” repeats Morpheus, taking a fluid step closer to him. And he’s— he’s fucking barefoot in the grass. Lord have mercy. “You called for a whore.”

Hob should step back. Instead he’s rooted to the spot. Paralyzed by a swirling mix of fear and arousal. “That’s not— you’re not—”

Morpheus keeps advancing on him, liquid and predatory. The deep vee of his robe suggests he’s wearing nothing underneath. He’s got some kind of glitter under his eyes. And he’s— he’s so beautiful. Hob has always thought so, especially on that one blessed night when—

“Do you think me not a whore?” says Morpheus. He says it with allure, almost pride, not shame. “Do you think, my knight, that I have never slunk into some lord’s bed to steal secrets? That I have never used my body to seal an alliance, when my words were not sufficient?”

Hob should be horrified at the thought of his prince debased so. Instead, the image of Morpheus on his knees flashes through his mind, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from whining. “That’s not— the same,” he manages.

“Is it not?” Hob’s ankles hit his bedroll and he trips back, falling on his ass and bracing himself on his elbows, and Morpheus follows him, crawling up Hob’s body in a long, sinuous movement, the velvet of his robe soft wherever it touches his skin. “People can make sex their trade for coin, but it is different when I offer myself up in exchange for goods or laws or partnerships?”

If that’s all the case, Hob should find out what Morpheus wants with him now. Instead he asks, breathless, taken in by Morpheus’s eyes, “What did you trade for, then, my prince?” Maybe Hob doesn’t care what Morpheus wants with him. Maybe he only cares that Morpheus wants him. “When you let a foreign king bed you, did you use your mouth?” He touches Morpheus’s lips with his fingertips, and Morpheus smiles, sharp and pleased. “Or did you let him fuck you?”

The thought is as jealousy-inducing as it is arousing. Hob has no right to be jealous about his prince. But.

“What I needed to,” says Morpheus. “I have learned how to bait my lures. Many kings, I have learned, like to ruin pretty young men. Do you know—” he taps a fingertip along Hob’s lips “—how many times I have ‘sold’ my virginity? Played the hapless youth desperate for an older man to teach him, to use him?”

Fuck. Fucking hell.

“And did you learn?” Hob asks, hyperfocused on every point where their bodies are touching.

Morpheus tilts his head at him, suddenly all innocence. “Learn what?”

And, well. He does know how to bait his lures, it turns out. Even knowing he’s sinking his mouth onto a hook, Hob growls and flips them, pushing Morpheus down into the sheets. Morpheus lets out a startled breath that Hob’s pretty sure is affected but still succeeds in sending a thrill through him, and a powerful sense—careful, delicate, don’t hurt him. Even though the small part of Hob’s brain that’s still checked in to reason knows well that Morpheus is the one truly in control of whatever’s going on here.

“Should I teach you, then?” he asks, dragging a hand through Morpheus’s hair— so soft. “Show you how good I can make you feel?”

“Please,” Morpheus breathes, wrapping a delicate hand around the back of his neck. Hob really hopes he isn’t going to get drawn and quartered for this. Might be worth it, though. He doesn’t want to die, but if there were a way to go… “Hob, please.”

Fuck, his name in that wanting mouth.

“Got my mouth on you last time,” he muses, the sense memory of Morpheus’s prick on his tongue rushing through him, the hard press of the palace flagstones on his knees, “think I can show you something new, now.”

“I defer to your experience,” Morpheus breathes, as Hob pulls open his heavy velvet robe. As he’d thought, Morpheus isn’t wearing anything under it, and the thought of him walking through the camp like that to get here makes Hob want to bite something. Morpheus makes him so base and irrational.

Hob hadn’t gotten nearly this far last time. Had simply pulled open the ties on Morpheus’s breeches, let his prince tug on his hair as Hob took him in his mouth. Now, he has Morpheus fully unveiled to him, like a gift, like an offering, and, just like an offering, Morpheus stretches, arches his back, long limbs in relief and his cock laying hard against the crease of his thigh. He’s so pristine, always tucked away in his palace, where Hob has been out in the trenches—literally—getting sun-tanned and rough and dirty.

Although. Not so pristine as Hob might have thought. Apparently.

“You’re beautiful,” Hob tells him. “Your body is beautiful. I can’t wait to show you what I can do with it.”

Morpheus shudders, keeps playing along with their little facade of inexperience. “Will you ruin me for other men, Robert Gadling? Defile me, destroy my reputation so no respectable lord or lady will ever dare take me as their spouse?”

“You came crawling to my bed, pretty thing,” Hob says. Nips at Morpheus’s belly, which makes him cry out, such a pretty, keening sound, and then soothes where he’d bitten with lips and tongue. “You’ve been wanting it, I think. Someone to take you down, someone to fuck you.”

“Perhaps I simply wanted to reward my favorite knight,” Morpheus says, trailing off into a groan as Hob leaves another mark low on his pelvis.

“Should have told me you were the prize for valor,” Hob says. “I’d have killed twice as many men. Come to your bedroom still covered in the blood I spilled in your name.”

Morpheus actually moans at the image. “I’d have had you that way. My knight.”

“You can have me now.” It’s tempting, to do as he did last time, and take Morpheus into his mouth. But Hob wants to do something different to him. And he has the sense that Morpheus wants something different done. “Go on. On your belly.”

Morpheus’s breath leaves him in a shuddering rush, but he does as Hob says. Hob runs his hands down over his smooth back, his ass, his wiry thighs, kneeling between them and pushing them further apart. Morpheus whines, moving his hips in little circles to get the barest amount of friction on the sheets.

“You need it so badly.” Hob parts Morpheus’s cheeks with his thumbs, rubs over his hole, and Morpheus keens. “Don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, Hob, show me—”

Hob swipes the oil from the bag beside the bed—because yes, he is prepared for these sorts of things, if not specifically for his prince showing up—and dips his fingers in. Rubs them together to warm it, then slides one finger into Morpheus, without pause, straight to the first knuckle.

Morpheus lets out a choked gasp, fingers clenching in the sheets. The sound makes Hob’s cock twitch where it’s already straining in his breeches. “Hob—” he moans, strangled, “Hob, I—”

He starts to lift himself up, and Hob pushes him down with a hand on the back of his neck. Morpheus struggles for a moment and then goes boneless under him. Hob releases him and strokes his hair. “Good boy. You want it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Morpheus says shakily, pushing back on Hob’s hand when he starts working that finger inside him. “Please. Please.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Hob promises. Having Morpheus, his prince, his beautiful prince, splayed out under him like this is heady. If he weren’t so focused on Morpheus’s reactions, he might have lost his grip on his own arousal already. “But you’re mine.”

He slides another finger in, and Morpheus moans raggedly. Hob doesn’t know if he’s truly getting overwhelmed or if he’s still trying to play the clueless virgin, but either way it’s burning through Hob’s veins. He gets Morpheus writhing on his fingers, achingly hard in his own pants, taking each of Morpheus’s pleasured, crying moans as its own prize.

Morpheus is shaking, panting, as Hob pulls his hips up, undoes the laces on his own breeches to pull out his cock, lines himself up. Morpheus presses his face into the bed, fingers tight in the sheets. Hob touches his lips to the base of his spine, tastes the sweat there. “My prince?”

Morpheus swallows hard and it still doesn’t seem to clear his throat. “I am ready.”

So Hob braces his hips and pushes in, one long slow slide. He groans at the same time as Morpheus moans, so ragged it’s almost pained. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Well,” says Morpheus, “you are the first to have me so.”

Even aware that Morpheus is only playing at it, the words make Hob feel like he’s clinging to sanity by a thread. “You’ve been waiting so long, haven’t you?” he manages, as he starts to move, still holding Morpheus by the hips. Morpheus sighs at the slide, thighs trembling. It’s enough to make Hob obsessed. Morpheus is so tight and hot, Hob really doesn’t know how long he’s going to last, but he’s determined to give Morpheus just a bit of that ruination first. “Waiting for the right cock to fill you?”

Morpheus pushes back on him with a whine. “Yes.”

“Kept yourself as a prize for me?”

“Yes. Hob.”

Hob reaches around to take him in hand, and Morpheus cries out, bucking into his touch, pinned in place. Hob moves faster, each thrust pushing Morpheus into his grip, his breeches scraping roughly over Morpheus’s bare thighs, and it feels so base to have him like this, still clothed, taking him like a casual whore when he’s a prince. It feels wrong. But so good.

“How’s it feel?” he asks, voice gratifyingly steady. “For your first time?”

Morpheus lets out a wordless groan. Then, “Good. So much. I—” he trails off again, losing his breath. And this, too, is gratifying, reducing Morpheus, usually so eloquent, to broken sentences and simple words.

“Good, love.” Hob soothes a hand over his hip. “That’s good.”

But before Morpheus can settle, Hob increases his pace, pounding into him so hard and fast that Morpheus loses what remains of his balance and is held in place only by Hob’s hand on his hip, his arm wrapped around his belly. Each thrust pulls a sharp gasp from him, his face pushed into the sheets— and Hob’s nearly insensate with how good it is, but still he manages to pull Morpheus off in time with each thrust.

“Hob—” Morpheus chokes, “Hob, I’m—”

“You can come, love. I want to see you.”

Morpheus comes with a bitten-off cry, spilling over Hob’s hand. He’s so beautiful like that, Hob’s formal, perfect prince—crumpled in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, hair damp with sweat. It’s a collision of every illicit thought Hob’s swallowed down when he’s looked at him. In the palace, on campaign, at times when he was meant to be guarding Morpheus and when he wasn’t. He can’t last long thinking about that, seeing that, so he bends low over Morpheus’s back and kisses the back of his neck. One small, tender touch in this game of roughness and transaction, one touch before Morpheus inevitably swans back out of his tent, back to his writing and his diplomacy and his other diplomacy, and— fuck—

Hob holds Morpheus to him as he comes, wishing he could say, don’t go back to anyone else. You’re mine now, come to me. But those aren’t his words to say.

Morpheus slumps down to the bed, boneless and satisfied. Hob follows him, breathing hard against the back of his neck, finally releasing him from under his weight. Morpheus only winces a little when he pulls out, and Hob yanks off his own shirt and uses it to wipe off Morpheus’s stomach, between his thighs. Morpheus sighs, tipping his head back, a tiny smile on his face, then turns to face Hob, leaning on his arm.

Hob’s swiftly learning how weak he is for that smile on the face of the usually unreadable prince. He trails an exploratory finger along Morpheus’s jaw, up his temple, into his hair. Morpheus closes his eyes at the touch, slow and sleepy.

“Was that better than your many transactional trysts?” Hob asks. “Or do I have work to do?”

“I would not know,” says Morpheus, a self-satisfied little smile now curling on his lips. “Considering those did not occur.”

Hob blinks hard, mind going blank. “What.”

“I spun you a story, Robert,” Morpheus says. His voice is sex-rough, his hair a mess, his gaze drags over Hob’s body with a proprietary touch. “And it is a fun story, is it not? Plying secrets from between the sheets, returning home victorious when one was thought to be had. And,” he drags a fingertip down the center of Hob’s chest, “coming back to the bed of a lover. One whom one wants to be with. To be made his again.”

Hob is still stuck on this. “Wait, are you telling me you made all that up?”

Morpheus smirks. “Do you truly think that my words would ever be insufficient to obtain what this kingdom needs? Do you think I need to use my mouth other ways to get treaties signed?”

Well, when he puts it like that.

“It was a compelling story, though,” Morpheus muses as Hob continues gaping at him. “You seemed compelled.”

“Morpheus, why?”

“I wanted to see how my favorite knight would respond to knowing other men had had me,” he says, and keeps dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair in self-soothing patterns. Then his expression shifts from clever to almost shy. “And. I thought that if you knew the truth, you might defer too much to me. Treat me only like your prince.”

Hob’s stomach swoops. “And… what’s the truth, then?”

“That evening at the state dinner, when someone meant me harm and you saved me…” his voice holds a note of wonder now. “That. Was the first time that I had ever.”

“What?” He can’t lie to himself, the thought of being Morpheus’s first, for real, does spark something in him. But also. Morpheus is a prince. And Hob had been…

“I had never before had cause,” Morpheus explains. “I was uninterested in marriage. And I never found anyone worth threatening my reputation over. Until…” His lips purse, stressed now. “And I wanted you so. And. You wanted me.”

Hob is speechless, running through every second of that night in his mind. Sweeping Morpheus into his arms and out of the way of a blade. Morpheus’s wide eyes staring at the slice in Hob’s arm, the blood welling there. Blinking and finding himself crowded into a side hall, Morpheus panting into his mouth, the hunger of his pretty lips, heat and adrenaline running through Hob’s body, pushing Morpheus against the wall and sinking to his knees in front of his charge, his dear, his prince to worship. The tears that had pricked at Morpheus’s eyes as Hob had taken him all the way down.

Christ.

“Does that bother you?” Morpheus asks, uncertain now.

“I’d have shown you a better time then if I’d known,” Hob says, because doesn’t he deserve to be properly taken care of? “In an actual bed.”

Morpheus lets out a little huff of a laugh, expression easing. “I enjoyed it.”

“And then…” he lets his hand come to rest low on Morpheus’s waist. “You came back for more.” He kisses Morpheus and swallows his pleased sigh. “Hungry little thing.”

Morpheus’s breath shudders, and he clings to Hob’s hair, his shoulders. Hob’s about to roll on top of him again and kiss him properly, maybe more once they’ve recovered themselves, but pauses as a realization sinks in. “Wait. Does that mean—”

“Yes, Hob. You were the first man to fuck me.” He sighs. “Use that information against me if you wish. It is out of my hands, now.”

Hob is reeling with shock, and even more so with arousal, heat flashing through his body at the mere thought that all Morpheus had pretended at, newness and learning and raw, unpracticed want, had been, at least somewhat, real. And he had let Hob have that. Catch it. Had trusted him.

“Never,” Hob swears, kissing his cheek. “I would never. You’ll be my secret. Besides. I don’t think anyone would ever believe me even if I said. Me, with you? A prince? And a gorgeous one at that?”

Morpheus runs his hands over Hob’s shoulders. “You are handsome. And very gallant. I do not see what you mean.”

“Well, that’s flattering. And I won’t tell you to take it back.”

Morpheus runs his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dark where they trace over Hob’s jaw, shoulders, chest. “I have. Wanted you from afar. For a very long time.”

Obligingly, Hob kisses him, and sweeps his hands over Morpheus’s lower back, drawing him close. “You’re a prince,” he says, breathless again with want for this wonderful being. “You can have whatever you want.”

“So,” Morpheus nuzzles at his jaw, “I may steal my way into your bed? You would not mind that, Ser Gadling?”

“Sneak in, or stay, I won’t mind. I’ll give you all my secrets.”

Morpheus hums. “And your loyalty?”

Hob thinks he means it playfully, a continuation of his ruse from before—but it comes out much more serious. His gaze finds Hob’s with a deeper wanting than when he’d swanned into Hob’s tent, all draped fabric and fluid lines of desire.

“You have it already,” Hob murmurs, and Morpheus’s pleased sigh as Hob kisses him is a balm to his soul. “My prince.”

#if i don't post this attempt at 'just smut' now i'll end up crawling into a hole and eating the crumpled paper of it instead #just doing smut outside of a plot is like so hard mad respect to the people who write smut oneshots damn #dreamling #nsft #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ye olde prince/knight dynamic #my writing #this fic is actually absurd i'm sorry. but if at least one (1) person thinks this is hot i'll consider it a success. it only takes 1 #im cringe but im free

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18caramel · 11 days

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𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫! (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐡𝐜𝐬! 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

A/N I hate spiders ewwww but here you go. no spiders were harmed :) no specific terms for the reader ♡ pics from Pinterest

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

when Soda hears you scream "oh my, it's huge!" Darry gives him a weird look but laughs it off

he immediately rushes into his room to see what was happening

he sees you standing on top of the bed, terrified

he doesn't understand at first and jokes about it

but then sees that you are very overwhelmed and tries to comfort you

when he takes off his shoe you beg him to let it run away or take it outside

he giggles and tries to catch it and you kind of forget your fear for a moment

he's so gentle with it just like with any other creature when he finally catches it with a towel

you watch him let it go and then ask him to wash his hands

Soda rolls his eyes but goes

when he comes back you pull him into a tight hug

you both fall on top of the bed and Soda mocks you, saying "if it was huge, I must be giant"

you roll your eyes at him and he pulls you into a passionate kiss

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

you were hanging Curtis’ clothes outside to dry because it was a summer evening

Darry was tired from his shift so he was smoking a cigarette on the porch

suddenly you scream as you see a huge black spot on the white t-shirt

Darry rushes to come and help you out but you both get stuck in the wet bedsheet that you just hung up

both of you fell on the floor laughing about it

but now you have to wash it again

and then you see the spider crawling on Darry's hair

you scream again but can't get up

Darry can't stop laughing at you

he gently takes the spider WITH HIS BARE HANDS and throws it far away

when you both get up he spins you around, still happy about what has happened

you apologize for falling down and wrecking the clothes

he kisses you on your forehead saying it was okay and he actually had fun

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

you were driving with him, headed home

he was talking to you about his promotion when all of a sudden you saw a spider

Steve is very pissed at you for making his heart stop

you understand in a way because you were on the road

but he gets it too, he knows you hate them

he pulls up to a random house and tries to catch it, but you can't be emotionally there because you feel trapped

when he finally gets it out of the car he comes over to you to give you a hug

you cry into his shoulder because you got very emotional and scared

even if Steve is very tired from his shift and also dirty he pulls you into a hug

he tells you that it's okay

he reminds you that it was harmless but knows you won't ever listen

you thank him for being there for you

but you still can't forget about it when you get inside

Steve turns on the radio and you dance together

you are so happy to be with him and he's soooo happy too! aw

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

you almost faint when you see a spider in Dally’s bathroom

there was a huge party at Buck's so Dally is waiting for you in his room, making sure nobody would storm inside

when he hears you scream he straight away pulls out his g*n

you ran out of the bathroom half naked yelling about a spider

you ask him if he was really about to use it on a freaking spider and you laugh so hard

but Dally is not in a mood so he is really about to show you that he's capable of doing it

but lets go of that idea as soon as he realizes that you are half naked

he kind of wants to make out

but you tell him that he has to get rid of it immediately

as he tries to catch it you are even more terrified

Dallas is mocking you when he catches it with a cup

you ask him if he's going to let it escape but he says no

you get mad at him and go to bed

he knows you are watching him slowly open the window and let the spider go

he rolls his eyes when he sees you giggling

"now you owe me" he says, taking your hand to go and shower together ;)

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

when you call Ponyboy to rescue you he is so freaking nervous but tries to hide it

you saw it crawling near his books

when you tell him where you saw it, he panics even more

you jump on the bed, waiting for your hero to do something

he wants to laugh it off but can't

Pony is too scared to ruin one of his books so he lifts each one carefully trying to spot your enemy

Pony could never kill a spider

so when he finds it he slides it on a piece of paper and goes to throw it outside the window

you give him a peck on his cheek making him blush

he gets sooooo shy but also proud of himself

you go and lie down together on the bed

you know he was scared too but chose not to say anything about it

he is acting all heroic and you secretly love it

(yes he will check if anything happened to his books when you leave)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

Johnny hates spiders

but he loves you more (duh)

so when he hears you scream in your room, he rushes back from the kitchen to help you

neither of you can spot it any longer, so you both fall asleep

Johnny is there to comfort you during the night

he tells you that it probably went away

but in the morning when you go to the bathroom you see a giant spider in the corner of the wall

you scream again and run back to your room

this time Johnny takes a deep breath in and takes your slipper

but you tell him that you want it to live

it creates an even bigger challenge because Johnny could never touch it

both of you sit on the bed and talk about your fears

you both decide to do it together

he grabs a piece of paper and you bring a cup

in the end you succeed and let the spider go outside

you are very proud of yourselves for doing something so brave

Johnny is so grateful to have you as a partner

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭

he actually loves spiders and insects and you know it

so when you see a spider in the living room of Curtis' house you run to the kitchen to find him

he was eating cake

he didn't care at first but then was intrigued

he started asking you all sorts of questions like how big and what species it was

you roll your eyes and he laughs

but he knows you despise them so he actually lets go of his cake (wow) and runs into the living room

he makes a joke about the spider wanting to watch Mickey with you

you can't help but laugh too (come on its funny)

Two-Bit gently grabs it and even tries to touch it

you're so disgusted that you leave the room

when he comes back he makes a sad face saying that you're too scared of them

then he jokes that if you want to build the future together you must accept his love for spiders

you playfully slap him saying it will never happen

you both chill on the couch while Two-Bit is busily thinking about naming that spider

then he wants to prank one of his friends (Pony ofc) with it but you talk him out of it (thankfully)

you gently kiss his lips, forever grateful to have someone like him by your side whenever you feel scared.

#the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #dallaswinston #ponyboy michael curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #x reader #dallas x reader #pony x reader #the outsiders oneshot #steve randle #darry x reader #darry curtis x reader #johnny cage #johnny cade x reader #dally x reader #the outsiders 1983 #outsiders fanfic

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theoutsiderslove · 1 year

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Before the Rumble

Darry Curtis x Fem! Reader

Tags: Brief mentions of violence.

Word Count: 2.5k

“Every one of us will be back here before you know it.”

Ponyboy and Sodapop had been talking about it for weeks.

It seemed like every other conversation focused on it. They talked about it at the dinner table, Soda yelled about it from the shower, and Pony would even take breaks from his homework to stop and chatter on.

When Steve and Two-Bit were around, and then all four of them got to going on about it? Then it was really a rousing conversation.

While Darry was looking forward to it the same as they were, he was beginning to get a little annoyed with the constant talk of it. Sure, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and it was something that all got excited for.

Darry, however, preferred to wait until a day or two before to begin hyping up for it. There was no sense in being all tense for it when it was still two weeks out.

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind all the bubbly chatter. It made you happy to see them so excited for something.

After all, it wasn’t every day that they had a rumble to look forward to.

Over the last several months, things had been extra heated between the Greasers and the Socs. More and more unprovoked fights, crossing over into territories, and just overall grievance between the two groups had become obvious – and it was time to cool things down a bit.

Rumbles were a decent way for the Socs and Greasers to blow off steam on one another. It was their chance to get in as many swings and kicks as they could without “breaking the rules.”

It would settle things down at least…for now.

Needless to say, the boys were stoked, and now that the night had arrived and the rumble was only a few hours out – they were off the walls.

“Hey! I saw that, Two-Bit,” You barked. “No knives.”

His cheeks flushed pink at being caught shoving his blade into his pocket, but the grin on his face was as Two-Bit as ever.

“I wasn’t gonna use it!” He claimed, but you knew him all too well.

“You know what happens when a knife comes out at a skin fight,” You pointed at him with a knowing finger. “I don’t want to have to sew anyone back together tonight.”

Two-Bit cackled at that, his usual wisecracker of a personality shining brighter than ever. Nonetheless, he obliged to your scolding, removing his switchblade from his pocket and leaving it on the table in front of the couch.

It didn’t dampen his spirits whatsoever. If anything, everyone’s normal behaviors were doubled tonight.

The Curtis home was bustling with activity. The gang was on fire with energy tonight, all of them going through their separate routines to get prepped and ready for the rumble. Dallas was nowhere to be seen, but he usually showed up right when it was time to get going.

They were spread out throughout the house, each of them piping up within the conversation.

“Y’all think the fuzz will show up?” Steve asked from the dining table, where he was playing some card game with Sodapop.

“Nah. I don’t think this is gonna be that kind of rumble,” Soda answered. “A couple of minutes at most.”

Your head popped out from the kitchen at the sound of that. While females usually didn’t participate in rumbles, you were going to be on clean up duty when they returned to the house later that night. It was important to be sure that there was plenty of first aid, clean rags, and aspirin to fix everybody up…not to mention some kind of bedding so everybody had a place to crash, and towels so everyone could shower.

“Sodapop, do not get too comfortable with that,” You advised. “I also would prefer not to have to bail any of you out of jail.”

“Awh, come on, [Y/N]. You’re just bein’ paranoid.” Ponyboy said from the sofa, where he and Johnny were sitting quietly.

Pony and Johnny didn’t usually say much before a rumble. They were the smallest of the group, and these rumbles were physically much rougher on them than the rest of the gang. Still, they liked to pull their weight like everybody else, and bringing glory to the Greasers meant more than anything.

“Especially you,” You pointed again, but at Pony this time. “It’s one thing bailing Dally out. You’re a different story.”

You couldn’t help but be protective. When you and Darry started dating, you signed on with this gang. Each and every one of them meant something special to you. In some way or another, each of them had helped you out and been there for you in some way. They trusted you the same way you trusted them. It was the least you could do to pay it forward – keep them safe and clean them up afterwards when they weren’t.

Steve turned around in his chair to look at you, a goofy smirk plastered on his face.

“Why? You think Darry’s gonna yell at you if he does?” Steve laughed. “No chance that’ll ever happen.”

You couldn’t help but share a smile. The guys always teased Darry about how he was so serious and rough all the time. But the second you were around or if he was merely even thinking about you, that big man demeanor melted away.

“What will never happen?” Darry asked as he entered the living room, only hearing the second half of the conversation.

Not wanting to argue with the big man in the house, Steve waved him off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Steve dismissed, returning to his card game with Soda. “Got any twos?”

Darry scoffed, rolling his eyes at his kid brother’s best pal. The man’s blue-green eyes met yours, a certain shimmer shining over them when he looked at you. He had a small, yet dashing grin on his face – an expression he showed when he was happily, but quietly thinking about you.

A moment was shared between your silent looks. He knew you were nervous, as you usually were before they all went off to go beat up a bunch of rich kids from the other side of town. He was sure that you had already given Pony and Soda the pep talk about getting away if the cops showed up. He was positive that you had already told Two-Bit to empty his pockets of any weapons.

He knew your thought process, and your caring nature for him and his family (both biological and not) made him feel like the most loved guy in the world.

“Hey,” Two-Bit called to Darry, suddenly re-inserting himself to the topic at hand…or the one that was attempted to be left behind. “Speaking of things that’ll never happen, when are you going to buy that poor girl a ring?”

Your smile was wiped clean off your face, and a scowl appeared in its place.

“Keith.” You said boldly and sternly before anyone else could get a word in.

Two-Bit sank into his chair at the usage of his real, government name – a telltale sign that (per usual) he had taken it too far.

That “girl” he was referring to was you, and it was something that he hassled Darry about all the time.

Everyone knew that you and Darry wanted to get married and would get married…eventually. According to Ponyboy, Darry had wanted to ask you to marry him within the first six months that you were together.

But you knew the situation that Darry was in. Their parents were gone, and things hadn’t been so smooth for them in the last few years. It had only been about a year since they had died when you met Darry and now, three years later, on the surface it seemed that your relationship was going nowhere.

But you knew that things weren’t so black and white. Darry on numerous occasions had began to save up some money to buy you a ring and put it aside for a wedding, but it seemed that every time Darry was getting some decent cash saved, one of the boys would get hurt or something urgent around the house would need fixing, and Darry would have no option but to use the money elsewhere.

One time you even suggested to Darry to forget the ring and just have a small courthouse wedding. It was cheap and quick. It wasn’t like you needed a wedding ring or any kind of “real” wedding ceremony. Spending the rest of your life with Darry is what mattered the most, but Darry knew that (even if you wouldn’t admit it) you wanted a real wedding with at least some of the bells and whistles.

Darry was insecure about it. He knew that you were long overdue for a proper proposal. He wondered sometimes why you had stuck around the way you had without any promise of marriage. In many ways, Darry wondered why you were still with him at all – because he knew you deserved so much more than what he could give you.

You didn’t have to pitch in around their house like you did. You didn’t have to treat Sodapop and Ponyboy as if they were your own. You didn’t have to put up with the foul-mouthed, chainsmoking pack of people that you were around on a daily basis. And you surely didn’t have to be the caretaker of the aftermath of a good old-fashioned Greaser brawl.

But you loved Darry, so you did all of that.

In Two-Bit’s defense, pretty much everyone had asked that question at some point…in their own personal style. Whether it was Johnny quietly whispering to Ponyboy or Dallas asking Darry when he was going to “get on with it”, everyone had wondered about it.

It was clear too that everyone was curious for an answer, considering that the entire house had now gone silent. Every pair of eyes in the room was on Darry, which made you feel worse than it did him.

While you were well aware that they had all thought about it, you didn’t like it when they said it out loud.

Darry had enough pressure on himself as it was, you didn’t want more weight to press down at your expense. Darry had gotten used to the guys poking him about this, and he usually knew what to do to change the subject.

“What about you, wise guy? Where’s your girl?” Darry mocked. “Where’s Kathy, huh?”

Believe it or not, Ponyboy was usually the first to jump in to defend Darry…even though he wanted the two of you to get married more than anybody.

“Did Kathy finally get sick of your jokes, Two-Bit?” Pony joked, and the volume in the house began to pick up again.

“Maybe she moved on to a Greaser that can actually make it to noon without getting piss drunk!” Sodapop howled, and now everyone was dogging on Two-Bit instead.

“I’ll have you all know that me and Kathy are doing just fine.” Two-Bit proclaimed, but that only seemed to make everyone egg on him more.

There was a distraction for now, and you jumped on the opportunity to have Darry to yourself for a minute.

“Hey, Darry?” You called calmly, darting your eyes to silently let him know that you wanted to talk privately.

Darry caught your look, and nonchalantly carried himself into the kitchen to avoid disrupting the bickering between Two-Bit and everyone else.

You didn’t try to hide the anxious look on your face once it was just you and Darry. His face morphed into a worried look, but he already knew what your nerves were for.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, just in case.

“Listen…I know you’re always careful but…just be careful.” You asked, smoothing out a wrinkle on his t-shirt.

“Always,” He confirmed. “I don’t think this will be a big rumble.”

You heard what he said and understood, but that didn’t stop you from continuing.

“And keep an eye on Ponyboy and Johnny if you can. I know they’re independent and can handle themselves, but they’re just so much smaller and I don’t want-”

“Hey, hey. I’ve got this,” He smiled in amusement, but appreciated your concern as always. “Every one of us will be back here before you know it.”

There was no sense in fussing over them at this point. They were going to do what they always did…fight for their glory and return victorious.

“Okay,” You swiped a stray hair from his forehead, placing it back with the rest of his greased hair. “Try to avoid the one that bites.”

Darry laughed gently, his memory flashing in remembrance of the Soc from last time that bit Darry so hard that he swore his teeth almost popped through the underside of his hand.

“I’ll try.” He nodded.

You didn’t have much else to say. Darry’s reassurance had comforted you, and you felt a little better about everything.

But Darry still had one thing in the air to clear.

“And…” He sighed, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure that there were no wandering, listening ears. “About the ring – I’m gonna ask you to marry me one day, I swear. I just- things are even tighter than usual right now and-”

“Shh, shh. Stop,” You held a gentle finger to his lips. “I don’t need a ring, and you don’t need to explain yourself.”

“But you deserve to know.” His gaze went even softer, his voice even finding a pillowy tone.

There was a beat. A brief silence. And a kiss.

“I already know.”

Darry had never felt more loved. He didn’t know what kind of stars had aligned and what he had done to deserve such a wholesome, pure love. Whatever it was, he was thankful for it every single day.

Darry stayed with you in the kitchen, sharing soft touches and sweet kisses, occasionally eavesdropping in on the ruckus going on in the living room. For a moment, Darry didn’t even want to go to the rumble. He wanted to stay right here with you, forever if he could’ve.

That was until-

“Dally’s here!” Johnny announced, peeking out the window to see Dallas cruising up the steps.

Dallas’ arrival meant that it was showtime, and that the highlight of the night was about to begin. Dally’s appearance didn’t last long. Just long enough to rally his crew and get to where the rumble was being held. Everybody went scrambling out the front door (but not before Darry stole one more kiss from you), hooting and hollering all the way down the street until they were out of earshot from inside the house.

You knew that they would return much quieter and calmer, the post-adrenaline effect would have long been kicked in by then. But their spirits would be lifted, and there would be some…improved tension between the Socs and the Greasers.

It wouldn’t be long before things would get intense again. It was only a matter of time before you would be doing this all over again. That was just how it worked. It wasn’t an easy life. Some days felt harder than others, and some days were unbearable. But even if you had the choice, you wouldn’t change a single thing. As long as you had Darry, you would be fine.

Because you loved him no matter what – rumbles and all.

#darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis x fem! reader #darry curtis x female reader #darry curtis x you #darry curtis x y/n #darry curtis imagine #darry curtis imagines #darry curtis one shot #darry curtis oneshot #darry curtis fanfiction #the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders one shot #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders fanfiction #theoutsiderslove

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ghcstao3 · 1 year

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apologies for inactivity here’s a vaguely ghostsoap oneshot w outsider pov from tommy. because ghost’s family is still alive because i said so. rest is below the cut. 1.2k words

Watching his younger brother fall in love was a strange thing.

Of course, watching him do just about anything these days was strange enough, but falling in love? For a long time, it had seemed above Simon.

Not once had Tommy ever seen him take time for himself, or let anyone new into his life so long as they’ve been on better terms. It never seemed like something remotely of interest to Simon, either.

Though God only knows how much he deserves to have someone to take care of him for once. From a shitty childhood only made worse by his shitty older brother, then for Simon to have to be the one to put Tommy back on track which led to him falling in love with Beth, and who knows what other horrors Simon would never speak about, it was finally time Simon found someone of his own.

That being said, Tommy hadn’t ever really, truly expected it.

It’s a slow process, but it gradually becomes obvious—to Beth, at least, who will point out signs Tommy hadn’t at all noticed that, when looking back, were quite clear.

Like the uncharacteristic softness in which Simon spoke the name Johnny. The shift in tone when talking about his sergeant though he attempts to maintain a front as to make a show that he knows better than to fraternize with a colleague.

(Though knowing a few stories of the things Simon’s captain has allowed within his task force, neither Beth nor Tommy think it’d be an issue for him.)

But all it had ever started with was a gruff, offhand mention of a new subordinate Simon was none too happy about, because the new sergeant was (and quote), “beyond irritating and without the concept of personal space,” and, “lucky he’s skilled enough for it to be overlooked on the field.” Both Tommy and Beth had tried to argue that surely it couldn’t be that bad, but Simon had only levelled them both a stare he had long since perfected to make even his own brother and sister-in-law look away.

The sergeant isn’t brought up for a while in calls or visits after that, and Tommy is progressively convinced Simon had meant what he said about his disliking. Then Beth asks about it, whether things have gotten better, and suddenly the sergeant becomes MacTavish and he and Simon are almost something of friends. Almost. And from their end of the phone, Beth gives Tommy this knowing look that takes him far too long to decipher, but eventually understands it as her noticing a fondness in Simon’s voice in his renewed opinion of Soap.

It’s odd, figuring these things out about his younger brother. It really, really is.

Then MacTavish becomes Soap becomes Johnny over the course of the next few months, and when Simon visits on one of his rare leaves, for once Tommy doesn’t need his wife’s help in detecting the unique sentiments reserved for this mysterious sergeant. There’s a palpable shift in Simon, a sort of emotion Tommy has never seen his brother express.

It’s unfamiliar, and sure there are things he would never know about Simon, but this? Nearly incomprehensible, at first. It’s new to Tommy as a witness, and new to Simon in general, and it’s all just some confusing mess that neither of them understand in their respective ways.

Though, thankfully, Tommy has Beth for that. Mostly. Whenever she doesn’t scold him for being such a stranger to his own brother.

The worst of the whole Simon-being-in-love ordeal is when Tommy is urged to broach the subject when it started to seem like Simon didn’t realize himself that he was… feeling. Tommy asks if Simon had ever considered that maybe he likes Johnny in a not-platonic way after his younger brother complains about the sergeant being on medical leave for six weeks while he was stuck with training rookies that are (again, and quote), “so green it’s a wonder any of them have made it this far in life,” however Simon only responds with a vehement denial and a quiet not like Johnny would feel the same if I did before he hangs up without a goodbye.

It’s at that point Tommy begins to understand Beth’s frustration with the obvious.

Since Tommy’s question, the ever-present Soap this, Johnny that disappears from conversation with Simon entirely until a month before bi-annual Christmas leave when a near-groundbreaking question is meekly asked—if it’d be alright for Simon to bring someone with him to family dinner. He never specifies who, but it’s easy enough to guess.

(And get it right.)

John MacTavish is somehow exactly and nothing as expected, and it catches both Tommy and Beth by surprise.

He’s talkative, is one thing. That isn’t to say it’s a bad thing, either—they’re both more than happy to finally have someone regale them with the stories that aren’t classified, and John seems just as happy to do so—but also having known Simon for just about all his life and knowing his aversion to chatty people like John, it seems odd he’d be so infatuated.

And infatuated is definitely the right word, when Tommy glances over to see the adoration in Simon’s face watching John speak with such liveliness, an adoration he knows himself guilty of when looking at Beth. It’s the exact same, or so Beth would later say.

Another thing is the touching. It’s subconscious, surely, whenever John reaches a hand out to connect in some way to Simon, but Simon just lets it happen. Leans into it, even. It’s part of what really solidifies the conclusion that Simon has finally found his person.

What really does it, though, is John’s use of Si like the nickname was nothing—and Simon reacting all the same. Even Tommy hadn’t ever been afforded that privilege, and while at first it stings for a very brief moment, once Tommy is over it he settles back into complete disbelief like he’s been told pigs had, truly, learned to fly.

That one had even startled Beth. Had even startled Joseph, who had been told on numerous occasions that his uncle didn’t like when people called him Si. Yet here John sat at the dinner table like Simon hadn’t let him do something previously reserved for absolutely no one.

Later that night, Tommy corners Simon and asks him again about his feelings toward John, because it’s just so painfully clear now. He half-expects another denial, but Simon sighs and shrinks in on himself in a way Tommy hadn’t seen in decades before admitting that he likes John in a very not-platonic way.

That he loves John. That he plans on asking John on a proper date when they get back to Simon’s flat the next day.

Hearing the words from Simon, the word from Simon, is initially bizarre, but Tommy is more occupied with a sense of pride for his younger brother—though expressed in the quieter Riley fashion with an additional wish of luck certainly not needed after seeing how John and Simon act together.

Watching his younger brother fall in love was a strange thing, most definitely. But it also feels rewarding, in some equally strange way, to finally see Simon have something he’s always deserved after so, so very long.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #ghoap #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #soapghost #ghostsoap #fanfic #writing #oneshot #outsider pov #alternate timeline #drabble

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miryum · 1 year

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The Funnies (Darry x Reader)

A very very very short blurb of a Darry x Reader. So sorry it’s so short!!!!

Darry sat down heavily in his chair. Grabbing the newspaper Soda brought home, Darry shifted through it before grabbing the funnies, setting them aside, returning to the front, and starting to read. Pony looked at him oddly. Darry glanced up and deadpanned, “what?”

“Why did you just do that with the comics?” Pony asked.

“Y/n likes to read them.” Darry said simply. Speaking of the devil, Darry’s girlfriend, Y/n, walked in the door. “Hey, darling,” Darry said.

“Hey Superman.” Y/n walked over and hugged him tightly.

Darry kissed her softly before holding up the funnies. “Look what Soda got you.”

“He did?!” Y/n’s Dave lit up and grabbed the pages of comics. “Thanks Soda!”

“Huh?” Soda looked up from the table, mouth full of food. After no reply, he went back to eating.

“Come here,” Darry gestured to his lap, opening his arms up. Y/n curled up on his lap, snuggling into him. She opened the funnies and started reading.

Darry, who was supposed to be reading his paper, only had eyes for his girl, who kept laughing or giggling at certain comic strips then pointing to them and showing Darry. Darry would nod, reading the comic, before pressing a kiss to her hair.

His paper wouldn’t get read, but his love for Y/n would only grow.

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thewulf · 3 months

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Don't Cry || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - In that, you mentioned Dally and Two-Bit walking the reader home and I had a request idea I wanted to send you. Could you write a Dallas Winston x reader where reader is a little younger than him but he’s really protective of her??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhh these Outsiders requests are so much fun! I'm writing them so quick. Fresh inspo is so much fun. Thank you for the request and hope you enjoy! @fluentmoviequoter

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: knifes, knife cutting, blood, crying, yelling

You’d known Dallas Winston for a long time. Not your whole life but it felt like it. He was always a constant in your life. Your relationship was always a weird one with the Winston boy. You could joke all day long in the confines of the house but as soon as you left it he wanted nothing to do with you. Like he was embarrassed of you. Little did you know he was just trying to keep your squeaky-clean reputation intact. For you might’ve hung, lived with and been around greaser’s but you weren’t one really. You were a greaser by association. Dally always said you were far too kind, too pure for this lifestyle so he tried his hardest to keep you as far away as he could.

It wasn’t easy when you gave him those pleading looks outside the Curtis residence to just acknowledge your presence. He tried his best not to cave. Not even when all he wanted to do was laugh about something stupid Ponyboy or Sodapop did. But you couldn’t be seen with him out and about so casually. Then the Soc’s would start to target you. He didn’t know what he was quite capable of at the thought of somebody hurting you. As he got to know you and the Curtis after moving to Tulsa he swore he’d protect you day and night. He wouldn’t let a pretty little hair on your pretty little head get touched.

He'd decided early on when he met you, he was ten and you were eight, that he was going to get you tough. He was going to be hard on you, not too hard though. If you were going to grow up a greaser then you needed to know how to defend yourself. He spent the next eight years teaching you, training you, protecting you. He didn’t realize when it happened but slowly he stopped looking at you like a younger sister. Those protective feelings went far deeper than familial love. No, he actually loved you. He’d fallen in love with the one person he really shouldn’t have fallen for. Darry would skin him alive if he knew. Soda would beat him into oblivion. Pony would tell him how disappointed he was in some sort of poetic way that went over his head. He knew he just had to keep these growing feelings quiet. For your sake. You didn’t need to deal with him or his endless amounts of baggage. Even if he could see how attached you had grown to him too.

To say your relationship had grown confusing and chaotic over the years had been an understatement. Even Darry had picked up on some of the awkward tension that seemed to pop up out of nowhere when the two of you were left alone. Soda caught onto the longing gazes Dally would throw your way. He even caught you a few times doing the same to him. Pony wasn’t blind either. He was your very best friend and confidant. Whenever the conversation of Dallas Winston came up you shied away. Scared of letting something loose on accident. All the brothers knew there was something there they just didn’t know if and what would happen.

After your parents had died he’d been there for all of you but especially you. You’d taken it the hardest. Your mom was your favorite person and she just disappeared one day. You were lost and had to rely on teenage boys to guide you through it all. Your parents had nobody they could fall back on to take care of you. Thank goodness for Dally. He’d quite literally pulled you out of the depression you’d slipped into by just being there. Helping you. Asking for nothing in return. That’s when you fell in love. He’d shown you his true colors under the layers and layers to Dallas Winston. Under it all he was there for you and promised to never leave. And you knew he'd keep that promise, you just knew it.

Slowly the months ticked by and you’d gotten back to normal. Going out with friends and boys. Dallas watching you like a hawk whenever you went on dates with guys he knew were nothing compared to you. But he decided not to say a word and let you live your life. It was worth seeing the smile come back to life after seeing you so sad for too long. Seeing you happy was worth it all.

So, when Ponyboy asked you to accompany him on a Paul Newman special at the movie theatre you couldn’t refuse him. He was so excited about seeing the film you could hardly imagine saying no to him. You’d always enjoyed the movies too so it was hardly a tough sell on his part.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Saturday. Maybe if Dally was there to accompany you. But you couldn’t admit that. If you did then everything would change. Who knows what Darry would do to Dally. How Soda would treat him. This could get weird, and you hated weird. You’d rather keep it normal even if it meant having to keep him as a friend.

“Which one did you like better?” Pony asked once the two of you had left the theatre. He placed his hands in his pockets giving you a quizzical look. The two of you waked slowly along the cracking road that needed some serious repairs. Your head spun towards the street seeing a car full of Soc’s roll up chipping at Ponyboy about something, ignoring you completely. Even though you were over a year older than him Pony stood much taller than you. He pushed you behind his back as he yelled back at the boys. You tugged at the back of his shirt letting him know it was time to go. It wasn’t smart to get chippy with five of them in the car. They outnumbered the two of you and you were rather useless in a fight.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you across the street. After a moment of walking along the residential road you answered him, “The Hustler was far better Gidget Goes to Rome. Paul Newman really is a mastermind.”

He smirked bobbing his head in agreement, “Thought you’d say that.”

You feigned offense at that statement, “Am I that predictable Ponyboy Curtis?” You raised your eyebrows as you walked along the dirt path. The theatre wasn’t far from home thankfully. Maybe just over a mile. A twenty-minute walk or so.

“No. I just know you I guess dear sister.”

You smiled at your younger brother. Even since your parents had passed you’d taken on the nurturing role for him and even Soda more recently. Darry had none of it though. You’d grown close to your two brothers since their death’s. Darry kept his distance trying to do his best to raise you instead of letting you help him. He was trying to take on the role of your father without even asking if that’s the three of you wanted. But you didn’t dare question him.

You gave his hand a soft squeeze, “That you do Ponyboy. You know me better than anybody else.” You spotted a vehicle fast approaching from behind the two of you as you went in for a hug.

Your eyes widened seeing the same Mustang before barreling towards you, “We gotta run.” You grabbed his arm and started sprinting down the road. Pony was faster, so much faster than you, so he tried to drag you along only ending up tripping you in the process. They caught up in their Mustang an instant. He stood in front of you as you scrambled to your feet.

You gulped as the five boys got out of the car walking towards you, “Get out of here.” Pony tried to sound tough, but you heard the waver in your younger brothers voice.

One of them flipped a blade open. Your eyes shot wide open as you grabbed his shirt trying to tug him away. But they were faster as one of them tugged on your arm pulling you to the ground in front of Pony. You let out a scream trying to draw the greasers attention a few houses down. Hopefully they were hanging out outside like they usually were. Drinking beers or some shit.

“Darry! Soda!” You yelled as Pony as was taken down to the ground with you. He tried to let out a few calls for help but was muffled by something being shoved in his mouth.

“Shut her up.” One of them said, Randy maybe? You’d recognized him as the one with the redhead from school.

And before you knew it that same blade was placed right to your throat, “Pretty little things got a mouth on her huh? Maybe this’ll quite you down.” The overly-cologne scented Soc smirked as he pressed the blade across your throat drawing yet another yell right from you. He cut you. He really cut you.

Before you knew it they were running away. Your brothers and friends had heard you and Ponyboy yelling and came running right to your defense. It was only a little over a minute you were down on the ground, but that minute made you tremble. You’d never been so dominated like that in your life.

You looked down shocked at everything that had just happened. You’d felt the blood trickling down your neck more so than throbbing of the slice the Soc had given to you. Darry pulled you up from the ground, so you were sitting at eye level with his crouched form. After a moment of him holding the handkerchief up to your neck he finally spoke, “They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?” His voice was low. He was pissed. You knew you were in trouble later on once everything had settled.

You shook your head afraid to look at your older brother, “No, I’m fine.” You whispered afraid of what he might say next.

Ponyboy made his way over to you, crouching down next to Darry, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t…”

You stopped him, “It’s fine Pony. I’m okay really. Just a cut.” A small smile wavered over your face trying your best to reassure him.

Darry scoffed hating how you were playing this off so casually. Like his kid sister hadn’t gotten a knife pulled on her. Like you hadn’t gotten cut by that very same knife. It was every nightmare he had coming to light right in his backyard. At least the two of you had gotten that far before being attacked.

“Hey, Y/N.” Soda spoke after running up. His face dropped seeing the blood running down your neck, “Did they pull a blade on you?” He put his hands on your shoulders so he could get a better look.

Your face flushed with embarrassment seeing all of your brothers eyes right on you. Turning away you couldn’t take Soda’s intense gaze, “Yeah.”

He pulled your head back towards him, “Hey kid, they ain’t gonna hurt you no more. Come on.” Grabbing your hand, he hoisted you to your feet with ease. Darry gave you one last quick look before he grabbed Pony by the arm. You gulped knowing Darry was going to have it in for him. You needed to talk to your older brother about being so hard on Pony. It was just an accident after all. It wasn’t your fault the Paul Newman films kept the two of you in deep conversation not seeing the Mustang until it was too late.

Dally only interrupted you and Soda once Darry had pulled Pony ahead. He needed to make sure that his favorite Curtis sibling was okay. A minor wave of panic rang through his body seeing you pushed to the ground next to Pony with those boys had their filthy Soc hands on you. Rage washed over him as he kicked the side of the fancy car when they fled away from the scene.

Dallas’s eyes scanned over you with concern only stopping when he saw the trail of blood rolling down your neck, “What the hell is that? Did they cut you?” He took a step closer, grabbing at your face with a delicate touch. Almost as if he was afraid he’d hurt you further if he grasped on too tightly.

“Jesus, Curtis. What’d I tell you about defending yourself?” He gave your cheek a soft squeeze before dropping his hand. He spotted the already bloodied Handkerchief turned rag in Soda’s hand and held out his own to ask for it from your brother.

You looked down, “It was five on two Dally. What were we supposed to do?” You asked back earnestly wondering what the hell you were actually supposed to do. Run? Pony was faster and you’d only slow him down so that wasn’t an option. You’d already tripped trying to keep up with him. Try and fight? Well, you got a blade pulled on you so that wasn’t great either.

He bit his mouth trying his best not to snap at you. His adrenaline was high, and he was scared at the thought of you actually getting hurt, “I don’t know Y/N. Fight back? You were just lying there!”

You stopped walking abruptly, brushing Soda away knowing he didn’t need to hear the conversation about to go on between you and the hot-headed man beside you, “Can you go make sure Pony’s okay?” You asked him.

Soda gave you a curious look before finally handing Dally the handkerchief, “You sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” You gave him a quick push before turning back to Dally, “What is wrong with you?”

He stepped closer so your brothers couldn’t hear ahead of you, “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m just trying to keep you alive Curtis. I should be asking you the same! Why are you out walking alone with Pony this late on a Saturday anyway? You two know better. Those no good for nothing assholes only want to fight.” He grumbled before dabbing at the semi-dried blood on your chin.

You let out a huff of irritation. He was being so caring yet so damn frustrating, “What? I can’t go anywhere without a damn chaperone now? I’m confined to my brothers house? Is that how it’s going to be Dally? Pony isn’t enough now?” Your voice was snappy as you pushed and pushed and pushed him. He was already feeling on edge from the whole thing and your attitude was about to be his breaking point. There was nobody on this planet that could get under his skin like you could, nobody except for you. You’d found a way to weasel your way into his ice-cold heart and sink a burning ember into it. For Dallas Winston would do anything for you. But man, did you frustrate him to no end.

“Jesus, you know that’s not what I mean! Stop putting words into my mouth Curtis.” He put his hands up in the air in frustration, raising his voice just a tad. Darry turned back observing, making sure you were fine. He knew Dally would never hurt you. He could see the way the Winston boy looked at his younger sister. He wasn’t stupid. Dally had always been soft on you. Except he wasn’t. He pushed you harder than he pushed anyone. He wanted you to know how to defend yourself. With your hands, a knife, a pipe whatever. He was going to teach and push because he needed you alive. You were the only thing grounding him to this planet at the moment.

Your eyes narrowed on his, your voice raising as well, “Then what do you mean Dallas? Go ahead. Say exactly what you mean. I can take it.” You’d only used his full name when you felt like being patronizing.

He looked like he was contemplating everything before he turned back to you, “You need to be more careful!” He snapped. He didn’t raise a hand on you but instead yelled right at you stopping you in your tracks. Dally had never yelled at you before. Scolded sure. Disappointed yes. Angry, of course. But yelled? Never.

Your brothers must’ve seen the look in your eyes as they all stepped in. Darry pulled Dally away telling him to cool off. Soda grabbed your arm pulling you back towards the house. And Pony happily chatted away trying to take your mind off it.

“Dally’s just an asshole, you know that!” Pony’s final ditch effort to get you to smile came up miserably short.

You gave him a solemn nod, “Yeah, I know. Never to me though.” The sadness in your voice must’ve been evident because that had him quiet down the remainder of the short walk home. You brushed them all away telling them that you were ‘fine’ and going to take a nap.

They left you alone for a few hours but when you didn’t come out for dinner all three brothers grew worried. Soda knocked on your door lightly, “Hey kid. Supper’s getting cold. Darry made one of your favorites, spaghetti, and meatballs.”

It was sweet how much they cared on you when you were down, but damn was it suffocating sometimes. It was times like these when you wish you could run to your mom and ask her advice on it all. Boys were… boys and they often didn’t have a clue what ran through your head.

“I’m not hungry Soda. Maybe later, I’m working on homework.” You heard him sigh before walking away. You’d thought you would have gotten rid of them but another, much louder knock broke you away from the essay you were committed to finishing.

“Pony said you both skipped lunch to go to the movies. Come on down and get some dinner kiddo.” Darry’s much deeper voice spoke through the door. He tried twisting the knob but stopped when it wouldn’t budge. As much as he wanted to knock your door in he knew better. You weren’t like his brothers. No, you were so entirely different. He couldn’t treat you the same or you’d most likely find yourself a foster home instead.

“I had popcorn. I’m still full from that.” It wasn’t a lie. You weren’t hungry. You were uneasy and nervous. And wanted to finish the damn easy that you’d been staring at for the better part of three hours now.

“Alight kid, I’ll save you a plate.” He grumbled before beginning to walk away.

“Thanks Dar.” You hummed ignoring the lump forming at the back of your throat. You were so lucky to have your brothers who cared for you so deeply. You just wished they’d give you the space you needed.

And you thought they did before, yet another knock came to your bedroom door not thirty minutes later. With a huff you set the pencil down, “Go away Pony. I’m not in the mood.”

A laugh so distinct came from the other side of the door. That was certainly not Ponyboy, “Try again, sweetheart.” Dallas. Dallas freaking Winston. What had your brothers done?

Your palms began to sweat as your heartrate sped up rapidly, “What are you doing here?” It came out colder than you meant but Dally just found it amusing. He knew you couldn’t hurt a fly much less hurt him words. Albeit you might be the only person that could actually hurt him with words if you wanted to. Dally was soft for one person. You.

“I’m here for you.”

You sighed, “Go away. I’m not hungry. I don’t know who went and got you or called you or whatever. I’m not in the mood Dally.”

He put his head on your door knowing your mood was stemming from the argument earlier. He had snapped at you, and he felt bad. Especially after Darry of all people came knocking at his door pleading with him to come back to his place and talk to you.

His voice was low but he knew you could hear it, “You and I both know I’m not going away little Curtis. So, you can open that door and we can talk about it, or I can sit here all night waiting. Those are the options.” You heard his stubborn ass slide down the door. You knew they could most likely pick the lock or break down the door. But Darry wasn’t stupid. He knew it’d cause more harm than any good. You needed your safe space away from all the madness of being a greaser. A place you could lock yourself away from.

“Please,” Your voice cracked as fresh tears flowed down without you even noticing, “Just go away.”

You heard him click his tongue, “No can-do sweetheart. I gave you the options. Your turn to pick.” His voice was smug. Was he relishing in making you squirm? Neither was really an option. Both forced your hand. But then again this was Dallas. He got what he wanted.

You tried to turn back to your essay all you could think about was Dallas freaking Winston sitting on the opposite side of your door. You knew his stubborn ass wouldn’t leave either and that drove you nuts. You’d never be able to finish the essay or go to bed knowing he was sitting there just waiting on you.

With a heavy sigh you got up, walked towards the door, opened it without so much as a second thought and found him sitting right next to your door, “Go away.” You tried in your meanest voice, but it came out as a whisper.

He shook his head as he stood to his feet, “That’s not going to happen sweetheart.” He leaned against your doorframe pushing you back inside your room.

“Why can’t you guys just leave me alone for one night? One stupid night. That’s all I’m asking for!” You’d hardly ever raised your voice, but you were tired. Exhausted. Scared of the Soc’s that pulled a freaking knife out on you. Frightened because when you needed a helping hand all you got was a scolding voice.

“We’re worried about you is all. You got attacked. A knife pulled out on you…” He lowered his voice hoping it’d help settle down the rage he saw in your eyes. It was weird. Different. He was used to such a sweetness about you. He’d never seen you angry. Upset sure. But this was something entirely different.

Your eyes bugged, “You think I don’t know that? That maybe I just need some alone time away from all of this?” You didn’t hate being a greaser, no. That would never be the case. You loved your life with your brothers. You were just so damn tired of always being alert these days. Being a girl put you in a weird position with the greasers. The Soc’s never laid hands on you until today. It was startling. You’d always heard how dangerous the life was but today laid it out in front of you how truly dangerous it could be if you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He put his hands up in defense, “You need to calm down, Y/N.” His eyes shifted from one of a confident gaze to one that filled with concern

You wanted to slap him across his pretty little face, “You saying that is definitely not going to calm me down!” You were beyond frustrated now. You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted him to leave you alone.

His eyes downturned as he saw your frigid stance. You were, for the first time he had recalled in his life, angry. Like angry, angry. Like you looked like you wanted to rip his head off angry, “Hey, I’m sorry. But I need you to relax a little. Sit down for me?” You were struck by his apology. Dallas Winston saying he’s sorry? You thought you’d so sooner be struck by lightning than hear those words come out of his mouth. The rage in your body calmed at that.

With an icy glare you sat down on your bed. You weren’t sure why you were listening to him. You were angry with him. He yelled at you when you needed sympathy. He’d scared you when you were already terrified. You thought the world of him, but that world came crashing down oh so quickly. You knew of the Dally he had hidden so well from you. Pony, Soda, and Darry would tell you stories all the time of how menacing he was. How he was so fearless in the face of it all. How could you not love on the man?

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked after shutting your bedroom door behind him. He knew your brothers were listening in, but it at least gave the illusion of a private conversation. Not that it mattered. They’d get the damn conversation out of one of the two of you eventually anyway. There was no privacy with the greasers.

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him, clearly not fine.

He shook his head giving you that damn chuckle that meant he knew you were lying, “I’m going with you’re not. You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” He asked once more. Stubborn.

“I want you to go away. That’s what I want.” The word weren’t as harsh this time. More like a soft rumble.

He sighed, “Come on Curtis. It’s just me. I know you and I know you’re not okay or fine or whatever word you wanna use. You can talk to me. It’ll be okay.” He grabbed for your hand that was nervously clutching the edge of your mattress giving it a comforting squeeze when his fingers locked with yours.

You felt the words coming on before you could stop them and soon you were rambling, “I’m overwhelmed Dally! I’m scared. I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll feel comfortable walking down the damned street anymore! And none of you will leave me alone to think about it!” You fired back exasperated. The building rage inside your eyes quieted down at the admission. You were terrified of what happened next. Everybody was always on edge these days. Life went from easy to hard in what felt like a night after your parents had left.

He opened his arms up, “Alright, come on. Come here pretty girl.” It didn’t take him much effort to pull you right into his embrace. In another instance you’d probably have fought him, but you were terrified and exhausted and his warm embrace was everything you needed. He pulled you closer before resting his head on yours, “It’s okay to be scared.” He whispered knowing that your nosey as hell brothers were likely sticking their ears to your door.

You closed your eyes letting the scent of his cologne mixed with the long day wash over you. So much more refreshing than the scent that washed over you earlier. Dally was always your comfort. No matter how harsh a day or words that were spat you knew you could count on him. No matter how mean you were to him either, “You yelled at me.” You felt another wave of tears come on. God, you felt so pathetic in his arms crying about being yelled at. Some greaser you were.

“I know.” He sighed giving you another reassuring squeeze, “You scared me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just let out my frustration out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve been there to protect you.” He sounded a bit angrier not that he was getting it off his chest.

You pulled your head back gaping at his with a confused expression, “Is Dallas Winston apologizing?”

He gave you that soft smirk that you’d come to love, “If you tell someone I did, I’ll deny it.” He brushed the stray tears away with his thumb, “I don’t like it when you cry.”

You laid your head back down on his chest, “Don’t make me cry then.” Quipping back, you knew that wasn’t entirely fair. He wasn’t the sole reason you were in tears. But he was the reason you were crying then.

He leaned down whispering in your ear, “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. You know I’m a fuck up. But I’ll try. I’ll always try for you.” There was no chance your brothers could hear him for you hardly could. Or maybe that was the rough pounding in your ears. He wanted it to stay between the two of you. He knew Darry would flip if he tried to make a pass at his sister. So, he’d keep his distance from you, for now. But he couldn’t promise to restrain himself if you made advances on him, he’d fold in an instant if you did.

“I believe you.” You fisted his shirt in your hands, grasping onto him. This certainly wasn’t what friends did. But it felt right to cling onto him. To mold into his touch and his embrace. Dally felt so incredibly meant for you the thought of not being with him hurt you.

He held onto you for just a bit longer before pulling back, “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. You’ve got me. Your brothers. All those friends. You’ll be just fine.”

You gave him a quick nod brushing the fogginess out of your eyes, “Thank you Dally.”

“Always. Now come on, let’s go eat before Darry force feeds you.” He stood, unwrapping himself from you, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Darry would, wouldn’t he?” You smiled taking his hand in yours happily.

He gave you that look, “Let’s not find out.” Before pulling you out the door. To nobody’s surprise were all three Curtis brothers not even subtly eavesdropping in on the conversation right outside your door.

“All of you. Unbelievable.” Your laugh let them know they’d called just the right person to brighten your spirits. Darry knew it was only a matter of time before you realized that he was your person. The thought terrified him. The older you got the closer the two of you grew. But time and time again Dallas had shown Darry just how much he loved you too. His actions and his words showed just how much he actually did care for you.

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bldngiris · 1 month

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꒰OKLAHOMA SMOKESHOW ꒱ . . . d winston !

pairing(s) : book! dallas winston x fem!soc! reader

in which y/n dreams of escaping tulsa but her dad is holding her back. however dallas winston listens and yearns.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : yelling, swearing, r's father is an ass, r is a soc but she doesn't like being one, discrimination. movie dallas used only for visuals even though i used blonde book dallas in mind!! mentions of religion, angst

robin chirps : happy easter!! this fic is inspired by oklahoma smokeshow by zach bryan :) bold is the song lyrics!

go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like.

y/n stood in front of her full-length mirror and took a look at herself one last time before heading out the door. if her father had caught her wearing anything other than appropriate soc attire, she would be done for. the amount of times she had been hit on by cocky high class boys who just wanted to get into her pants was numerous, alas her father didn't care. "you don't want to look like one of those greasy balls of garbage do you?" he would ask her. truth was y/n didn't want to be a soc. sh didn't want to be a greaser either. she wanted to escape tulsa and live in a city without labels and get away from all the hostility stored away in the streets of tulsa.

i know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight. you always wind up here in a puddle of tears

y/n had made her way to the diner with her friends. however, her "friends" had left her midway through the walk home to go hang out with a group of other socs. it had started to rain and the closest place y/n could go to was bucks. y/ns feet subconsciously made their way to the building lit by neon beer signs, ignoring the voice in the back of her head saying, "if i catch you 'round one of them greaser places.."

she slowly opened the door to the place, as a mixture of tears, mascara and raindrops ran down her face, her hair sticking to her face, her dress drenched. many eyes were on her as barely, if any, socs came to bucks. whispers, some louder than others presumably by drunk men were heard as y/n sat on one of the bar stools.

them boys are out and they're angry and they're lookin' for blood In the back of a blue old pick up truck. you've got nowhere to go although you're all gussied up

y/n sat at the barstool, a shaggy, pale, blonde boy sat beside her, a malboro cigarette hanging out of his mouth loosely.

"hey man, what're you doin' out here?" he asked the soc, curiously, in a sluggish tone of voice. y/n sniffled.

"my friends left me when we were at the diner, n' i didn't wanna get jumped, it's dangerous walkin' home by myself, y'know." she sniffled again. "plus, it's cold and wet." she paused again. dallas listened, as he hummed and nodded, understanding what she was talking about.

there's so much whiskey in his coke it'll make her nose bend

"that really sucks man," he muttered taking a sip of his whiskey and coke, y/n could smell the drink from her seat. dallas did't turn away or ignore her after that. they spent the next hour talking.

but she swears that his love is a damn god send

don't get me wrong, dallas hated socs. but y/n was different, under the high class, hair done, pretty dress facade, she was a normal girl yearning for more than just a privilege title. the two could relate on another level which dallas had appreciated. dallas and y/n both wanted more or less the same thing, both wanted to escape tulsa, but more or less everything was holding them back from doing so.

she's known god since she was a child, she used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day

y/n played in the front yard of her house with a white picket fence. she saw two kids around her age, playing over by a park around the 'border' between the west and east side.

"hi! im y/n can i play with you?" she asked the three children. they were greaser children, as seen by the difference in their appearance.

'til the world came around and took her dreaming away. told her how to dress and act and smile.

"sure! im soda, thats johnny and that one over there is steve" one said. soon enough, y/n's father had come out of the house, soon following a burst of yelling came about. "y/n get over here and away from that white trash." he exclaimed. y/n wondered, how could a grown adult be so hostile toward children? y/ns father grabbed the little girls hand and took her back over to the freshly painted house on the block.

'y/n, sweetie, you know better than to talk to those type of people." he told her. "now, im sure mrs. sheldon and mrs. valances children would love to play with you hm?" he said. the little girl with pigtails and turned around to watch the greaser kids looking at her sadly, eventually cheering themselves up and laughing softly as they played on the monkey bars.

she's an oklahoma smokeshow. he's an asshole from back home. she'll never make it out alive.

that night, at bucks dallas and y/n talked for hours. y/n told dallas about her image and how she was forced by her father to keep up the good girl act, how every soc guy just wanted to get in her pants and how she's never going to make it out alive.

dallas told her about how he grew up in the streets of brooklyn, new york because his asshole father didn't give a shit about him. his mother and grandmother didn't have enough to provide, because his dad kept taking the profit to the bottle. he ended up in juvi by the time he was ten for theft, trying to provide for his family until he just left and ended up here in tulsa.

that small town bar scene, where small vices kill your big dreams. he'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive.

"but my dad will never let me leave, not until i'm 21 at least, and if i do, he'll list me as a runaway to the police and they'll come and find me." she muttered, solemnly. it was nearly midnight now. dallas way to intoxicated to drive. y/n had used bucks landline to call a cab as she made her way home, thinking of the boy who had changed her life in a mere few hours.

well, I've been here, I've been up all night. thinkin' 'bout a life with you and i. one you'll never know 'cause you're a small town smokeshow.

dallas layed there, head empty except for the thought of y/n. it was nearly 3 in the morning at this point, but all he could think about was the girl who he had just met but felt like they had known each other for years and there he continued dreaming, because unfortunately for him only one of the two got their 'escape' from the prejudice of tulsa, oklahoma. unfortunately, it wasn't y/n. unfortunately, it wasn't the way either of them planned.

#dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston oneshot #dallas winston imagine #the outsiders x reader #angst #the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x yn #the outsiders x you #the outsiders x fem reader #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders 1967 #book! dallas winston #collected works.

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malwarechips · 4 months

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love when the character is a cube

#did i forget anyone (outside of like the generic robots ig?)#oneshot game #oneshot george #oneshot prophetbot #oneshot proto #oneshot #lev.png

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sweetsreverie · 9 months

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Saviors

while walking home after dark, the gang comes to your rescue after a group of socs jump you. pairing: outsiders gang x f!reader wc: 1,537 warning(s): assault, blood, allusions of intent to SA

You had spent the majority of the afternoon at the library working on a project before you left in the evening. It was dark by the time you left, and while you knew better than to walk home by yourself, you didn’t want to inconvenience anyone by calling your parents or any of the guys in the gang.

So you start walking home, and in an attempt to give yourself some peace of mind, you grab your house keys and clutch them in your hand. You wished you carried a blade on you.

Your walk home was fine until you were only three blocks away from your house. That’s when you saw headlights shining from behind you, and you heard a car engine; a white corvair was soon in your periphery, and there were three boys inside, around your age if not a little older.

“Hey grease!” One shouts from the window, and you try your best to ignore them as they shout obscenities at you.

“Broad’s ignoring us. Look.” One comments as they pull up the car closer to the curb, and they steadily drive beside you.

“Hey! You’re too pretty to be with those greasers all day. Let me show you a good time, huh?”

You couldn’t help but feel panic as they continued to follow you. There really wasn't anywhere to run or hide. There was an alleyway nearby that led to a dead end.

When the car came to a stop, that’s when you started booking it. You take off in a full sprint and listen to the three pairs of footsteps rapidly approaching you from behind. One of the boys reaches out and grabs the top handle of your backpack and yanks on it, and the force sends you to the sidewalk on your back. It knocks the wind out of you and that’s when one of the boys pins you down to the pavement, and the other two stand above you with sinister grins on their lips. You were powerless under his weight, no matter how much you kicked.

“You know, we wouldn’t be here if you had just stopped to talk with us, hm? Now look where we are.” The brunette kneeling on you says, and his knees dig into your arms that were pinned to the sidewalk.

“Just let me go- please, I won’t tell anyone-” You stammer, and he shakes his head while making a tsk tsk sound.

“I think it’s too late for that now. It’s late and everyone’s in for the night, so there’s no one to bother us.” He says before he looks up at the other two, and without another word, the three of them begin to drag you into the nearby alleyway. You kick and scream, making any and all attempts to escape from their iron grasps.

“Shut up! Shut your trap!” The blond shouts as you’re pushed to the ground again, and it was his turn to taunt you while the brunette and redhead watched. He reaches behind him and pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open and holding it in front of your face.

“Now you be quiet. Or I’ll skin you right here.” He warns you while he puts his hand over your mouth, and by now your vision is blurry from the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

You came to realize that you were fully at their mercy. If one of them had a knife, the chances were good that they all did. They were bigger and stronger than you, and if you didn’t want to be left for dead on the sidewalk, you had to be careful. You knew what happened to Johnny.

“You know, it’s a shame when pretty girls like you hang out with greaser trash.” He says while he moves his knife down, trailing the tip of the blade down your chin and chest, and his smirk grows.

“A lot of greaser broads are skanks. You don’t seem like it though.” He comments, and as his knife moves closer to the belt on your jeans, your brain goes into fight or flight mode.

“Let me go!” You screech, and you kick your legs as hard as you can to try and free yourself. You land a kick to the blond’s leg, and he grunts in pain while the brunette reaches down and grabs your ponytail with one hand, and he lands a hard smack on your cheek with the other. Your cheek began to burn from the impact immediately, but that didn’t stop you from fighting your way out of their grasp. The redhead whips out a knife from the pocket of his letterman jacket and flips it open, and he grabs you by the neck and holds the blade up to your jaw.

“Please let me go- please-” You cry as he presses the cold metal into your skin, making a small slice into your jaw. You felt weak from fighting them and your throat was beginning to hurt.

Your attention was taken from them when you heard another voice shout from the other side of the street.

“Hey! Get your ass out of our side of town!”

It was Dallas. You’d honestly never been so glad to hear his voice.

“Shit- get outta here!” The brunette says quickly, and they pretty much drop you to the pavement while they scramble back to their car. You turn onto your side and curl up, but you hear multiple sets of footsteps shuffling around. The tires on the corvair screech as they peel away, and you’re relieved.

When you turn to look, you see Dally, Johnny, and Two-Bit approaching you.

“Holy shit- Y/N is that you? Are you okay?” Two-Bit says quickly as the three of them jog closer to you, and Dally stands nearby while Johnny and Two-Bit crouch beside you. One would think that he didn’t care, but you knew he did. He just didn’t show it like the others.

“I’m okay-” You say meekly, and Two-Bit tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him. The blood on the cut was beginning to clot, your cheek was still red, and your eyes were a little red from tears.

“They cut you?” Dally asks, and you nod slightly. Dally grunts under his breath.

“You’re okay kid. C’mon, let us get you to Darry’s place and clean you up, alright?” Two-Bit suggests. The Curtis house was closer than your own home, and it was a good idea to get cleaned up before you see your parents.

Two-Bit and Johnny help you up to your feet, and Two-Bit takes your backpack and slings it over his shoulder as the four of you begin to walk.

“Where were you so late, Y/N?” Johnny asks, and you sigh.

“I was at the library. I’ve got a history project due soon.” You explain, and he nods.

“You could have called any of us, kid. One of us could have picked you up or walked with you.” Two-Bit comments.

“I know, I just… I didn’t wanna put anyone out.” You mumble. “Where were you guys at?” You ask them, and Johnny rolls his eyes.

“Dally took us to the nightly double. We only got through one of the movies before we had to leave, thanks to Dal.” Johnny explains, and Two-Bit laughs. You didn’t even need an explanation to know that Dally probably stirred up some trouble, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if Two-Bit helped him.

The four of you walk for a few minutes before you arrive at the Curtis’ house, and as soon as you walk in, you see Pony and Soda on the couch, and Darry was in his chair reading the newspaper. Once the three of them turn and see you, they get up from their seats quickly. Darry’s the first one to approach you.

“What the hell happened? Did you get jumped?” He asks, and you nod while you move over to the couch to sit down since Pony had motioned for you to move over.

“I was comin’ home from the library. They pulled over and grabbed me.” You mumble, and Soda disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a bag of frozen vegetables. He hands it to you and you silently thank him with a nod before you hold up the cold bag to your cheek.

“How deep is that cut?” Ponyboy asks, and you shrug while you reach up to touch it.

“Not very. It stopped bleeding pretty quick.” You explain, and Darry nods while he moves to sit back down in his chair while the others find places to sit. In a way, Darry saw you as his kid sister. You were a little older than Pony, and you became good friends with the boys quickly. Darry saw you as one of their own.

Dally stands beside the couch and against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Glad you’re okay, kid. Just call one of us if you’re alone like that again.” Dally says, and he reaches down to nudge the top of your head slightly. You couldn’t help but smile slightly at the gesture. Maybe he does show that he cares.

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