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socheckitout-mikey · 1 year

Note

do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!

ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae

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Title: The Shirt Thief

Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader

Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?

Word Count: 9,472

Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.

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The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.

In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.

However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.

Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.

Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.

Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.

Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.

'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.

Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.

From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.

'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.

Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.

Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.

Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.

"You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.

Damn you and your perceptiveness.

Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!

All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig.

Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.

"Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.

"You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.

"Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.

"Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.

'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.

Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.

His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.

'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.'

Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.

"Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."

Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"

"Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"

Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.

"Why, cuz I'll float away?"

"Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."

Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."

Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-,"

"Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”

"Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.

"And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.

Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.

"Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.

All Johnny could do was laugh.

The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.

"Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."

"You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."

"I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.

"Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.

"And why not?" You demanded.

"Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.

"Don't even think about saying that name!"

Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his.

Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.

Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."

The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't.

You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.

"Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.

"D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."

"Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

"You."

Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.

Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate.

One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.

There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.

"He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.

Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"

"I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.

He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"

"Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.

Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."

"My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.

"You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"

"I am not tellin’ porkies!"

"Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.

"Am not!"

Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.

"Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.

You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.

"Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.

Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."

"Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.

He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

"Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.

"Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.

"What why?" You demanded it up at him.

“Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.

Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.

“The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”

Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.

“And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.

Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”

You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.

In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”

“Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.

You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.

Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.

“Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”

Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.

“What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.

He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”

“Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”

“Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”

Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.

Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.

“Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.

“The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”

That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.

Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”

“I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.

All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.

"Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.

"Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.

The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."

I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.

Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.

With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?"

"Mmmmm maybe,"

"yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.

"But-," You tried objecting.

"No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.

"Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.

"Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.

"Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.

"You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."

"In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.

"Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.

"Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.

"yn-," he shook his head.

"Hey! I'm serious this time."

"Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.

Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.

It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.

A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.

"Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".

A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.

The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.

'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy.

"What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.

"Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.

Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.

"Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.

The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.

In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.

"White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.

"If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.

Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.

"Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.

The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.

"Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.

You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"

"I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.

Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.

"Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."

The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.

Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.

The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.

"I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.

"Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.

The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.

"Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.

"Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.

With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.

"Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.

"Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.

"Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?"

The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.

"Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders.

"Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.

Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.

"The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.

"Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.

Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.

"Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.

"Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.

"That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.

"Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.

"Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.

Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"

Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.

Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.

If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.

Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"

"Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.

“Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.

Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.

“What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.

“Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.

"That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.

Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”

Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”

“With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.

“Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.

Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.

That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.

Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”

“Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.

“What are you man, four?”

“Four?! I’ll show you four!”

“Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”

“You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.

"Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.

"Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.

"Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."

"In your dreams, two shits." You barked.

"I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.

Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.

"Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.

“Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.

In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.

Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?

Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”

A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.

You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”

"I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.

With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.

“Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”

He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”

“Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”

Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.

All you could do was gawk at him.

“Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”

“So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.

Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.

"I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.

"Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.

"So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.

He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.

It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"

Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.

You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

#johnnycade #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #johnny cade imagines #johnny cade headcanons #the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders johnny cade #the outsiders johnny cade x reader #the outsiders johnny cade imagines #the outsiders johnny cade headcanons #i hope you enjoyed!!

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panickingpansexuality · 1 year

Text

Imagine telling Darry you want to marry him while drunk

It was a normal Saturday night for the gang, drinking at the Curtis house after seeing a movie. Two-Bit brought out the drinks at the movie and you started drinking with him. Eventually the movie ended and you all started walking home. Darry and Pony were joking around and eventually Darry somehow got Pony on his back and at that moment you thought about how much you wanted him to marry you.

There was a loud cheer behind you and you saw Soda on Two-Bits back as they ran down the two other brothers and raced down the street.

When they caught up to Pony and Darry, Soda stated a game of chicken and not a single one of them was going to back out from that. The rest of the gang gathered around them cheering for either Pony or Soda. You laughed and Darry gave a quick glance at you before going back against Two-Bit. He pressed Soda and Two-Bit up against a fence and Soda started to lean backwards and flipped himself over the fence.

The Gang let out a chorus of cheers and you went over to check on Soda (who was completely fine).

Darry walked with you under his arm the rest of the way home, Pony and Soda walking in front of you two.

"Lovebirds." Steve said coming beside you two, "Y'all got any beer at the house?"

"Not enough for the lot of you." You reply.

"Good thing I always bring extra." Two-Bit said coming beside you two. "Try this (y/n)."

You swallow down the flask with a grimace, not only does it taste awful but it's disgusting, you pass it to Darry who takes one wiff of it and hands it back to his friend.

"Disgusting." You say, "What is that?"

"The quickest way to get drunk." Two-Bit says swallowing down another gulp.

He wasn't lying, by the time you had all gotten to the house you were very giggly and so was half the gang.

Darry kept you within arms reach but with you floating around everyone so much he just decided to sit you in his lap.

You giggled and looked at his face playing with his hair, he couldn't help but smile at your antics.

"What's so funny?" He asked after a minute of you just starring and laughing.

"You're so pretty!" You say, "Like so pretty."

Pony and Johnny laugh in the couch at you two.

"He is!" You defend. "Listen kids this is why you don't drink! Ok? Just so don't, cause then you'll look at Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. the whole night cause he's so so pretty."

"Babydoll." Darry says laughing, "I think you need sleep."

"No." You gasp out and then fall to his chest. "I don't think so."

Darrys hand on your waist gently rubs circles on with his thumb against your skin.

"Is Soda ok?" You ask. "And Two-Bit?"

"Yes Dear." Darry says, "Theyre trying to sleep in the kitchen right now."

You go to sit up and look at the sleepy boys in the kitchen.

"I'll get them blankets." You say getting up.

"No it's alright (y/n)," Johnny says getting up, "We can get them."

"You're so sweet Johnny." You say, "I wish we could keep you here all the time."

He blushes and hurries to the closet where the blankets are kept.

"You have the sweetest people in your life." You say to Darry, "It's hard not to love any of them."

"I know." Darry says pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"Like you're doing so good with them, Pony's so smart and the rest of the gang loves you so so much."

Darry pulls you closer to him and you ret your head under his chin.

"I really wanna marry you." You slur out, "Can we get married?"

Your glazed eyes look up at him like a dog begging for table scraps, Darry chuckled and presses a kiss to your forehead as Pony and Johnny come back in.

"Thank you so very sweet boys." You say giggling. "I am so proud of you two."

Pony and Johnny both are now sporting red faces as you continue to compliment them. Dally and Steve come in from outside and you gasp and wave at them both.

"Hi!" You gasp out, "I'm so happy you guys are here!"

"How drunk are they?" Dally asks with a grin.

"Sooooo drunk!" You say laughing, "But like I think you guys should all stay forever and we could all like out our checks into like living together and it would be so fun."

Darry presses his face into your hair and laughs quietly.

"Steve!" You say, "Darry won't answer a super important question for me."

"Dude." Says a slightly drunk Steve, "That's such a drag."

"I know!" You say.

"What's the question?" Dally asks.

"I asked," you say giggling, "if we could get hitched and he laughed!"

Dally starts laughing too and so does Steve.

"Come on," Darry says picking you up bridal style. "Time to hit the sack."

"Night night boys!" You call waving to them as Darry takes you to his room, he throws you in the bed and you giggled taking off your shoes and jeans. Darry throws you a nightgown as he takes off his jeans.

You stare and giggle, when he turns back around you've managed to get everything off just not get the nightgown on.

"You have the cutest butt!" You say laughing. "Literally my favorite butt in the whole world."

"Good," Darry says, he comes over and helps you out the nightgown on before joining you under the covers.

Darry joins you under the covers, you continue to giggle a little even as your eyes feel heavy.

"So..." You mumble out "Are you gonna answer me?" You ask.

"(y/n)," Darry says pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Babydoll," he says pressing another to your forehead. "I thought you knew by now that I'm gonna marry you someday."

"Yay," you say sleepily into his chest. "I can't wait.."

"Me either." Darry says as you fall asleep against his chest.

#the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders book #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darrel curtis x reader #darrel curtis imagine #darry curtis #darry x reader

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waxingonandoff · 8 months

Text

#stay gold ponyboy #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #darry curtis #two bit matthews x reader #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #steve randle

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via-l0ve · 10 months

Note

Can I have a short drabble dally/fem!reader drabble where the reader is very affectionate and motherlike, (like she emits a warm and inviting aura, always wears cozy clothing, and has candies and medicine on hand) coddling and patching up Johnny and Ponyboy after a rumble and Dally gets jealous so at night he snatched reader and basically forces her to cuddle with him (she doesnt mind tho bwah)

“Jealous?” “oh, shut up.”

a/n: i literally love this idea. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries from rumble, teeth-rotting fluff! <3

It was saturday night and Y/n was wide awake, waiting for the boys to come back to the Curtis’ home. The gang had somehow wrapped themselves up in a rumble and she was the one to patch them all up, so she patiently (well, as patient as she could, which wasn’t very much at all) awaited their arrival home. Y/n was worried. She knew that Darry, Dallas, Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit could handle themselves, but she couldn’t help but be nervous for the two younger boys who she adored. She had a maternal instinct over them, always coddling them and treating them like her sons. she read all the books that Pony had recommended to her and she was always there when Johnny needed someone to talk to about his home life. She carried around pens and pencils for Pony and gum for johnny because she knew he liked the taste of Spearmint but not Peppermint; and god forbid he had cinnamon gum. the kid would die. The point being y/n was nervously sitting in Darrys worn arm chair, gauze and bandages next to her along with bottles of water and hard candies. she knew the boys were filled with adrenaline after rumbles and the last thing she needed was seven boys bouncing off the walls; especially if half of them were hurt and bleeding.

The door was soon ripped open by Two-bit and the entire gang stumbled into the room. Dallas was the first one over to her, kissing her lips gently which made her smile until her eyes landed on Johnny and Ponyboy. she broke the kiss, smiling at Dallas before walking over to the younger boys.

“you okay?” she asked, making them sit down and handing them both a bottle of water, examining their faces and bodies for gashes.

“we’re fine, y/n.” pony smiled at you, giving you a hug.

“yeah y/n don’ worry ‘bout us none.” Johnny reassured, taking a sip of his water. Y/n was skeptical.

“are you sure? you’re totally fine? because if you’re not i’ll-“ y/n was cut off by Dally picking her up from the waist and walking out the door.

“everybody say bye to y/n!” he yelled, carrying her over his shoulder as the gang waved to her.

“dallas!” she scolded once they got to his car.

“what was that?” she asked, just a little confused.

“you always baby those two.” he rolled his eyes.

she looked at him, amused as the pieces clicked together in her head.

“you’re jealous!” she smiled triumphantly as Dally drove them to Bucks.

“what?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

“yup. you’re jealous because I wasn’t paying attention to you.” she smiled at him. “awww dallas.” she cooed, pressing kisses to his jawline as they pulled up to bucks. He got out of the car, walking to her side and picking her up again, running them both up the stairs. he threw her on the bed, taking his shirt off and getting under the covers with her, pulling her close to his body.

after a couple moments of silence, y/n speaks up.

“just admit you were jealous.”

“shut up.” he muttered into her neck, enjoying cuddling with her.

maybe he was jealous, but he knew she would always cuddle with him when he needed it. even if it required him to snatch her away.

#thank you sm for this request #the outsiders imagines #dallas winston #love u mwah #the outsiders #dallas winston x reader

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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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darrysfav · 4 months

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Darry’s Coquette Girlfriend HC’s 🎀

• When he first met her, he thought she was a soc

• But when he introduced himself to her and asked her she said that she was greaser as well

• He was in shock because how does a girl who is wearing pretty skirts and shirts be a greaser

• When it came to the first date he wore a black shirt and some jeans but when he saw her, she was wearing a pink mini dress and god did he fall in love right there

• He was a little nervous to introduce her to the gang due to your style but they ended up liking her

• Two-Bit and Dallas though would flirt with her to try and piss off Darry

“Hey pretty baby!” “That skirt would good on my floor!” “If you two keep talking I will rip your throats out”

• They kept that as a promise

• But just because she was pretty doesn’t mean she wasn’t a bitch

• Darry got to see that first hand when she punched the shit out of Tim for him flirting with her

“So baby me and you on my bed-“ just ends up on the floor “When the hell-“ “I ain’t just some pretty face”

• Wanted to marry her right then and there

• Encourages her to wear pretty dresses <3

“Which one?” “The pink one with dots!” “Damn Darry you sure you ain’t wearing it?” “You sure that Cherry likes you?” “Fuck off”

• In the end he loves his pretty girlfriend 🩷

im in love with coquette gf x darry curtis 🫶🏼

#the outsiders 1983 #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #two bit mathews #the outsiders headcanons #darry curtis #the outsiders imagines #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis headcannons

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therealtwobitmatthews · 1 month

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OOC

I imagine johnny as the kind of guy to get aggressive or mean when he's nervous or scared

This strikes a lot of fighting and arguing with his 'family' which he always loses unfortunately

Like imagine he's nervous about going home one night because he said something bad that same morning and he's at twobits house and twobit tries to help him like

"Johnny if you tell me what's goin on I can help you.." and johnny just sorta lashes out

No one in the gang reacts badly to this as they know this is just a reflex johnny has since he grew up in a bad home and has to be on survival instinct

However movie dally will say something back to him and get upset while book dally will just give him space and let someone who knows how to comfort talk to him instead

#the outsiders #two bit mathews #rp account #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders rp #rp #the outsiders roleplay #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #darry curtis rp #darry curtis #steve randle #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons

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intrstellarhearts · 1 year

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the tuffest chick in tulsa - the outsiders x curtis sister!reader

fandom: the outsiders

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1094

request: yes / no

characters: reader, darry curtis, sodapop curtis, ponyboy curtis, dallas winston, johnny cade, two-bit mathews, steve randle

original request: do you mind doing the outsiders crew with a curtis sister!reader where she’s older than ponyboy but younger than soda. basically, the reader is short and the gang (except her brothers) don’t expect her to be very strong but in reality she’s really strong and does roller derby, baseball, wrestling, etc. just a little scenario or headcanons of the boy’s reactions to being shown up by a 15 yo :)

a/n: ty for this request!! i forgot how much i loved writing for the outsiders lol. just wanted to say that requests are super helpful, bc i often have writer’s block lmao. just send me an ask & i’ll write it!! (rn i have a lot of motivation to write for the outsiders, dead poets society and house md!!) again, these could be scenarios or headcanons, and can include the reader or not! the only rule i have is no nsfw :)

taglist: none right now for the outsiders!! (message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be included!!)

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“alright, c’mon ace! you can do it … go go go!!”

you bit back a smile at the loud cheers coming from your brother sodapop. a quick glance told you that he was right there, next to the dugout, with your other brother, ponyboy. you wondered if maybe darry got off of work in time to see you, but the quick call of the umpire quickly snapped your attention back to the task at hand. the sun was beating down on that hot april afternoon, and a bead of sweat came down your forehead. you adjusted your stance on home base, making sure your grip on the bat was tight. the game was tied, and you it was up to you to win. then the pitcher made his move, and there you were, swinging your bat.

“y/n! run! c’mon!!”

you were running alright. and now you ran even faster, having heard darry’s voice cheering you on. this was where you belonged, on the diamond. you could see the other team scramble for the ball, your own teammates cheering as you rounded the bases easily. one of the outfielders tried to throw the ball to the boy on third base, but it wasn’t going to phase you. gritting your teeth, you had an explosion of speed, and slid onto home base just in time. your teammates erupted into cheers as the game ended. you took off your helmet, a big grin taking over your face. you nodded to your brothers, and went over to get a drink of water.

you teammates were there to congratulate you, slapping you on the back and mussing up your hair. as the only girl on your school’s baseball team, you had quickly shown the boys that you were nothing to be messed with. growing up with three brothers, as well as the pseudo-brothers in your gang, you were way tougher than anyone thought. although, many of the boys in your gang still thought of you as fragile and delicate, despite years of showing them otherwise.

“aw, y/n, that was an AMAZING game!!” came the excited yell of your brother ponyboy as he bounded over to you, followed close behind by ponyboy and darry.

“thanks, soda.” you said, and you couldn’t hide a smile. you took a hand to your cheek, trying to wipe some of the grease paint off.

“here, use this.” darry said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a couple tissues. one glace at him told you that he had come straight from work. he looked tired, but happy. “good job, kid. now give me that bat. we need somethin’ to eat.”

“how about the dingo?” you asked, handing darry the bat and your helmet, then taking a swig of water.

“aw, y/n, i don’t wanna go to the dingo.” ponyboy said, shaking his head.

“did you hit the winnin’ run today, pony?” you grinned, nudging your younger brother. “i didn’t think so!!” you, darry, and soda began to walk away, towards the road that would get you to the diner. ponyboy hung his head, kicking the dirt on the diamond, but he followed the three of you after a moment.

the dingo wasn’t exactly the BEST place to hang out, but they could make a damn good milkshake and fries. plus, without steve there, you would finally be able to have food to yourself, instead of him stealing it all the time! it was a short walk from the diamond -- only about ten minutes. however, as you got closer, a familiar truck in the parking lot caught your eye.

“oh n-” you started, but they were already runnin’ towards you. of course the gang was here. of course. in the blink of an eye, two-bit and steve had already tackled soda and pony, and dally and johnny came over to you.

“how come your forehead has that bruise, shortcake?” dally said, leaning in to check it out. you had almost forgotten about it yourself, since it had happened earlier in the week.

“oh, nothin’, dal.”

“doesn’t look like nothin’.” johnny muttered, brow drawn with concern.

“aw, tell ‘em, y/n. it’s a good story!!” pony spoke loudly, dusting himself off as he got up, finally. you shifted your weight, suddenly seeming a bit less confident than usual.

“lemme guess.” two-bit started, and you turned to face him, an amused smile on your face. “you probably slipped or somethin’.”

“aw, lay off two. she ain’t that bad on her feet!!” steve said, punching him in the arm. the gang turned towards you expectantly, pony flashing a huge grin.

“well, i had a baseball game. not the one from today, it was a couple days ago. this guy on the other team started callin’ me names. y’know, stupid stuff. i didn’t think it would bother me. well, the ump started to tell me to shut up, all i was sayin’ was for him to stop!”

“and then what’d ya say?” johnny asked, completely invested.

“so then i get to third base. i decide not to go to home, ‘cause that would be too close of a call, y’know? so i’m on third base, and this jackass…” you quickly fixed your words after a stern look from darry. “this… guy thinks he’s all tough or somethin’. i try to go and run, but he trips me! i fell and hit my head and everything. the ump didn’t catch it, so i got up. he’s laughin’ so hard, and all i’m thinkin’ is that i wish he would shut up. so then i punched him.”

steve did a double take at that, and your smile grew.

“that shut him up pretty quickly.”

“shut him up?” pony began, excitement boiling over. “shut him up??? he was about to cry!”

“yeah!” soda agreed, illustrating by mocking the bully’s crying. “just like this. he ran off to the umpire, who totally called him on his problems.”

“hey, good for you, kid.” dallas spoke, nodding approvingly.

“wow.” johnny remarked, nodding as well.

“i didn’t even think you had it in you!!” steve spoke, messing up your hair. you made a fist to him, and he flinched.

“yeah, you better watch it randle!!” darry cleared his throat, and you put it down. “sorry.”

“maybe you should be our bodyguard from now on!” two-bit remarked, throwing an arm around your neck as you all made your way to the entrance of the dingo. “y/n curtis, the tuffest chick in tulsa!"

"and don't you forget it!" you remarked, grinning from ear to ear.

--------------------✰--------------------

#the outsiders #dallas winston #johnny cade #darry curtis #darrel curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x curtis sister!reader #curtis sister #dally winston #the outsiders scenario #the outsiders curtis sister #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons

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lunatiqez · 9 months

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PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY is a new discovery I’ve made and I officially cannot get over it. He’d SO be into photography,, so here are my headcanons for the silly guy!!! Ty for @mictodii for helping me figure out both the AU and some of the headcanons!! Ilysm!!!!

Side note: angsty at the end bc ;3333 I’m cruel. I love u guys I’m so sorry

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who was absolutely ecstatic when the gang, including you, all saved up money to by him his very own camera

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will take any picture of any scene ever. A train station? Snapping a picture of it. A tree? Snapping a picture of it. A couple of rocks by a creek? You guessed it, snapping a picture of it.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will always have extra rolls of film on him— 24/7, 365. Eventually, he’d carry around a satchel with him to carry his film, camera, etc.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will take pictures of his friends any chance he gets.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will, additionally, keep every picture of him and his friends. it’s blurry? Oh well, that means we were having a good time!

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who has a photo book and a wall of pictures in his room.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who writes the names and dates on the back of every picture in cursive. “(From left to right) Steve Randle, Sodapop Curtis, Johnny Cade, Y/N Y/L/N, Dallas Winston, Two-Bit Matthews, and Darry Curtis.”

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will offer to take pictures of you personally. “Cmon, you look really good!” “Just stay like that, just for a second so I can get a picture!”

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will no doubt take pictures of you when you’re caught off guard. And you, who will no doubt will rip up as much of the bad pictures as you can.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who has too many pictures of special events. Your birthday? He has AT LEAST 50 photos of all of the things you did that day.

★ ๑’- PHOTOGRAPHER!PONYBOY who will eventually look back at these photos when he finds them again. After Johnny and Dally died, after Soda went off to war. When everything was better. When everything was perfect.

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kenny-power · 1 year

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Johnny cade x winston!reader where dal actually sees how happy reader makes him xox ❤️😘😝😍

How happy

J.C. x Winston!Reader (REQUEST)

Warnings: Language

Fluff, established relationship, word count: 1.8k

A/N - Hi babes! I hope I did this request justice <3 I accidentally made it a lil long, but oh well! Please please please send in requests, I love them!

✨✨✨

If anyone were to ask me to describe my brother, “understanding” and “patient” would not be words I would use. Now, “overprotective” and “irrational”? Those are words I’d use to describe him.

Dallas Winston cares for only 2 things in his life; his baby sister and Johnny Cade. However, I don’t think he’d appreciate us being together. Which is why we have to sneak around behind his back. Dally just wouldn’t understand.

So it’s totally not wrong to be climbing out of my window right now, with full intent to meet up with Johnny at the drive-in. Not wrong at all.

Johnny and I have been dating for a few weeks now, but despite the relationship being new, the concept of us was not. Since high-tailing it out of New York with my brother, me and Johnny got along like fast friends. He was always the one who I went to when my brother did or said something to piss me off (which was often). Whether I was running from the cops or the socs, I knew I could always run to him. Likewise, anytime his folks were giving him a hard time, I’d be there. No matter the time, no matter where I was, I’m there for him.

He’s been the love of my life since before I even knew what love was.

And that’s why I just can’t tell Dallas. He wouldn’t understand. To Dally, I’m still the same 10 year-old kid that arrived in Tulsa with him, looking for a new start. Never mind the fact that I’m practically a grown-up now. I can legally drive and everything. Nope, to him, I’m still his kid sister who’s afraid of the dark and always asks for the extra pickle off his plate.

Sure, life would be easier if I could tell Dal about me and Johnny. For example, I wouldn’t have to climb out of my window like I am right now in order to see Johnny. We would also be able to go on date, all proper-like, without Ponyboy as a chaperone to make it seem less date-y. But I can’t. Not only because Dally would have a conniption fit if he found out, but also because Johnny asked me not to tell. Not until he had at least a little time to work out a possible escape route. And who am I to tell Johnny ‘no’?

So, sneaking around is the only solution. And I’ve gotten pretty good at it, or so I thought.

Johnny and I usually try to go to the drive-in for a date at least every other week. It’s not like we’re obsessed with watching movies, that’s more Pony’s thing, it’s just one of the only things we can do together without being too suspicious. Usually, Pony tags along with us, sitting a couple of seats away to give us at least a little bit of privacy. But Darry wouldn’t let Pony come out with us tonight - something about homework or studying, I don’t know - so tonight is one of the rare times that it’s just me and Johnny. I love nights like this. Nights where we can pretend everyone already knows about us and he can take me out like he wants and I can spoil him like he deserves. But for now, it’s still just pretend. I’m not really sure what movie is playing, some sort of western, but eventually I get tired of sitting around and get up to go get popcorn.

“Hey doll,” Johnny protests when I untangle my arm from his, “where you going?”

“Popcorn,” I say before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Wanna coke?” He smiles back at me, blushing.

“Thanks baby.” He says. Leaving my coat in my seat, I make my way to the concessions stand. It was one of those nights where it started out warm but eventually got pretty cold. So, I brought a jacket just in case.

The concessions line wasn’t too long, but it was still several minutes before I started to make my way back to ours seats. However, I quickly ducked behind a trash can when I saw my big brother making his way towards Johnny and the empty seat next to him. The seat that still had my coat on it. Well, shit.

Johnny was sitting quietly in his seat, waiting for you to come back. This was his favorite kind of night - one where it was just you and him. Where you guys could just be a couple, without the fear of what your big brother would do. Now, don’t get him wrong, Johnny respects the hell out of your brother. How could he not? Dallas is the toughest greaser around who’s willing to do anything to protect his kid sister, even if that means thrashin’ someone who get a little too close to her. And that scares the hell out of him.

It’s not like he wants to keep his relationship with you a secret. There’s just never a good enough time to bring it up. What’s he gonna do, waltz up to Dally and say “Oh, by the way, I’m madly in love with your sister and plan on marrying her one day.” Johnny doesn’t think he could even try to run fast enough to escape Dally’s wrath after saying something like that.

But, if Johnny knows one thing, he knows that he loves you. More than life itself. He loves you so much that he’s willing to face the devil called Dally if that means you could be his forever. He’s just gotta work up the nerve to talk to Dallas.

As if God (or the devil, depending on how you look at it) was listening to his inner thoughts, a heavy hand came down on his shoulder - shaking him from his reverie.

“Johnnycakes! What a surprise, man. Didn’t think I’d see you here. I thought Pony couldn’t come out tonight?” Johnny nervously lifted his eyes and made saw the very person he was thinking about. Dallas. Well, shit.

He cleared his throat nervously.

“H-Hey, Dal. What’re you doin’ here?” His was dry, the words sticking to the inside of his mouth. Dally scanned the crowd of other movie-goers before responding.

“I’m lookin’ for my sister. Apparently she didn’t think she needed to tell me where she was tonight. So’s, I’m just lookin’ in all the usual places. Have you seen her-” Dally paused, clocking what was obviously his sister’s jacket in the seat next to Johnny. “Hey, man! Are you on a date?” Dal clapped Johnny on the shoulder appreciatively. “So, who’s the lucky broad? Where’s she at? Anyone I know?” He started scanning the crowd again, trying to find you.

Johnny laughed nervously, “I guess you could say that.” He too began looking around, to warn you.

Dal stopped looking around and peered at Johnny’s face, which he was sure was as red as a tomato by now. “Whaddya mean by that? You guess?” He squinted at him. “It’s not Sylvia is it? I told her me and Steve’d beat the tar outta her if she was sniffing around you again.”

“No, no!” Johnny said, a little too loudly. “It’s not Sylvia. Swear it, I wouldn’t ever mess with her.”

“Well, spit it out man. Why’re you bein’ so secretive?” Dallas leaned in closer to Johnny, fighting to keep the grin off of his face.

I watch from behind the trashcan as my older brother starts to get in Johnny’s face. Not good, not good at all. So far, there hasn’t been any yelling or signs of anger from Dal, but knowing him, it was only a matter of time.

Staring intently at the pair, I wait to make my move. (Whether that be high-tailing it out of there or going to rescue Johnny, I’m not sure yet.) Then, I make eye contact with Johnny and see him give a tiny nod. Guess that means it’s time to fess up. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the incoming conversation. This probably wasn’t going to be pretty.

I walked up to the boys, carrying a popcorn and coke, trying to smile brightly (but it probably looks more like a grimace).

“Hiya, Dallas. What’s new?” At the sound of my voice, Dal whips around and glowers at me.

“Don’t give me that, you little shit. You snuck out. I’ve had enough with chasing you around town to make sure you don’t get killed or some shit like that.” Staring back at him, I don’t say anything. Instead, I move around him, put the food down, pick up my jacket from the seat, and sit down. Then, just because I could, I grabbed Johnny’s arm and put it around me. Not breaking eye contact with my brother the whole time. Johnny was tense beside me.

He clocked my intentions instantly. The bad part about growing up with him is that he is almost always able to read me to a T.

“So,” he started, tensely, “so this is why you sneak out all the time? To hang out with Johnny without telling me? What, do you think I’m stupid, or something?” His voice was getting louder, anger increasing. Oh no. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted like that. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” That caught me off guard.

“Me?” I scoffed, incredulously. “Why am I an idiot?” Dal chuckled.

“You really think I wouldn’t notice my kid sister acting as if she was in love or something? Baby, I think I could pinpoint the exact moment you two started going steady.” I paled. Apparently I’m not as good of an actor as I initially thought.

“Are you mad at me, Dallas?” I asked quietly, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Aw, hell kid.” He sighed. “No, I’m not mad. I just wish you woulda told me. I can see how happy he makes you” He turned a pointed finger to Johnny, who was quiet and pale this whole time. “You. Have her home right after, no messing around, got it?” Johnny nodded.

“Ye-yes, I got it.” Dal smirked, satisfied. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out 5 bucks and handed it to Johnny.

“Take her somewhere to eat after. Then, get some sleep. Cause in the morning, you and me are gonna have a talk.” Then, he turned to leave. I jumped up out of my seat.

“Dallas!” He stopped and turned back to me. I gave him a hug. “Thank you.” He ruffled my hair.

“Yeah, whatever kid. Go back to your boyfriend.” Pushing me off of him, he left. I made my way back to my seat.

“I guess that wasn’t as painful as it could have been.” I said, tucking myself back under Johnny’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s what you say. I’m the one who has to talk to him tomorrow.” I giggled and pecked him on the cheek.

“Oh my poor baby boy.” He blushed, but turned his head to face me.

“You missed,” he whispered, and leaned his head in to kiss me deeply on the lips.

#kenny-power #Johnny cade x reader #the outsiders imagines #Johnny x reader #Johnny cade imagines #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 1 year

Text

Meeting and Dating Steve Randle

(Not my gif/please check them out, oh my god their gifs are amazing)(Requested by anonymous)

(Please note that I’m talking out of my ass with half of this car stuff.)

“Sounds like your fuel filter”

- Those were the first words Steve Randle had ever said to you: a casual sentence uttered at your window as your car stalled in the parking lot of some convenience store half your school had a habit of visiting whenever they needed a chocolate bar or pack of cigarettes.

- You’d seen him around your school before but you’d never actually spoken to him: partially because you never really had a reason to and partially because he sort of scared you. Steve scared a lot of people and you were almost entirely certain that it was on purpose: if he didn’t want to, he’d try harder to look less mean; sort of like how he was looking at you right now.

- Up close he was handsome, much more attractive than you ever pegged him to be, and you suddenly found yourself sort of glad the rest of your school thought he was mean.

- Your more judgmental friends; and perhaps even your parents, would have readily told you that he was trying to get your attention, that he wasn’t actually being nice and that he had an ulterior motive behind his words. That his interest in your car troubles was merely an attempt to get closer to you so that he could flirt with and try to chat you up like the greaser he was.

- Unfortunately for them, the thought excited you.

“Sorry?” You’d responded to his comment, not exactly sure what he was saying.

“Your fuel filter,” He repeated before he went on to explain. “See, your cars starting but it wont turn on; wont go anywhere. That's usually cause you gotta switch up the fuel filter.”

“Oh.” You said: mainly just to let him know that you were listening; even though you hardly knew what he was talking about.

“Stay here. I got a couple in my car.” He told you; as if you were going anywhere.

- He jogged over to his trunk and you watched as the greasers who were with him grinned and seemingly made jokes about his kindness. He shut them up with a good slap on the arm before returning back to you with a cylinder in hand, dropping down on his knee and fiddling around under your car for a minute before he pulled his hand up and rotated another cylinder around in your view.

“That's yours. All that grimes giving you a hard time. You stick this one in there and it should start up no problem.” He explained, once again reaching under your car and fiddling around for a bit.

“There. You should be good to go.” He informed you, getting up on his feet and holding your old fuel filter in his newly dirtied hands.

“Give that a try.” He nodded towards your ignition and you twisted the key, and just as he said, it started up perfectly.

- You beamed at him and thanked him graciously before asking somewhat sheepishly how much you owed him; figuring that even just the parts had to cost something.

“Don’t worry about it,” Was his response. “Ain’t no problem.”

“I have to give you something. You just saved my life.” You insisted with a bit of a laugh.

“Well I wouldn’t mind your number.” He replied, and your stomach fluttered as you began to smile softly.

“Alright.” You said quietly and grabbed a notebook from your front seat, writing down your name and number before tearing out the slip of paper and holding it out to him. His fingers brushed yours as he took it from your hand, leaving a little black mark against your skin; one you'd gaze at fondly before washing up for dinner later that night.

- Waiting for him to call was agony. You thought he was ridiculously handsome and was obviously pretty decent; given how readily he’d helped you, so him taking his time to phone you had you on edge; your mind wandering and coming up with scenarios about him not liking you much at all. But finally, the call came a few days later and you were put to ease.

- Steve was at the Curtis house, shoving soda away as he dialed your number; waiting for you to pick up as his best friend ushered him to “go on and call for Pete’s sake” and to not “wait long enough for her to forget you. Trying to play it cool wont help nothing.”.

- The two of you went back and forth with a couple hellos when you first picked up due to the chaos erupting on his end but you found it more amusing than anything.

“Hey. It’s Steve, Steve Randle. I helped you with your car a couple days ago?” He said with a bit of finality once things managed to calm down.

“Ah, the fuel filter.” You responded and he smiled to himself.

“Yeah, the fuel filter. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight? A couple of us are hanging out at the diner down on fourth street?” He invited, and though the “couple of us” admittedly worried you a little, you ended up agreeing.

- He picked you up later that day, driving the two of you over to a little place across town where a few greasers and similar types of people were scattered around tables and booths. Luckily for you, the greasers who were sat around the hangout seemed to have a code of conduct and didn't give you much trouble after he introduced you to a few of his friends.

- The two of you sat down in a booth and started talking and soon enough you began to find him much less intimidating and a lot more charming. He was clever and fun and really handsome up close and you decided right then and there that his messed up smile was the only one you cared to see for the rest of your life.

- You shared your first kiss a few dates later. You decided that you had to at least get to know the guy before letting him inspect your tonsils and though he certainly would have liked to kiss you sooner, he had to let you play coy. He also didn’t want you thinking he was some low down hood who only wanted one thing.

- So he waited until after the two of you had a couple more dates and during your walk home from one of said dates, he leaned over and kissed you; testing the waters sort of delicately before he kissed you with a lot more urgency.

- After that, there wasn’t a thing in Tulsa that could have drove you apart.

- Steve has a tendency to try and act tuff whenever you’re out in public so pda really isn’t all that common; at least not in the way you’re probably used to. In private, he’s a lot more chipper and relaxed but whenever you’re out on the town, he’s a whole different person; especially when he see’s a Soc. You can just about feel the minute he spots them: his entire body stiffens and his face goes hard and you’re pulled behind or to the side of him; depending on where they are in relation to you.

- Typically, he puffs out his chest and lets you do the touching: loving when you grab onto his arm and stay close to his side; especially when it’s in response to some other guy coming near you. That being said: he also grabs hold of you himself, laying silent claim to you the minute anybody's eyes fall on your figure, daring them to try anything.

- He’s constantly up behind you; whether he’s sitting on the couch with you between his legs or leaned up against a wall while you lean against him. He’s just always there, and he likes how you absentmindedly just sort of fall into place.

- Little strokes of his hand or thumb whenever he’s touching/holding you; and boy does he touch you a lot. You’ll be sitting on the couch watching tv and he’ll have his arm around your shoulder, thumb mindlessly smoothing over the flesh under his fingers as you try your best not to get too distracted from your show.

- He prefers when you kiss his cheek rather than him kissing yours because, in his words: “if he’s gonna kiss you, he’s gonna give you a real kiss”.

- His kisses are, what I like to call, “contained”: unless you’re alone, then you’ll have to pry him off of you with a crowbar. They’re typically sort of hard and lingering; passionate but not enough to make your head spin. You like them a lot and he’s very happy that you do because he’s more or less addicted to kissing you.

- Him calling you “lil darlin” started off as a bit of a joke; him purposefully going out of his way to call you something overly sweet and cutesy in an attempt to make you laugh or roll your eyes, but after a while he sort of just started calling you it seriously and he hasn’t managed to stop since: unless he’s calling you just plain darlin, baby or hotstuff.

- The two of you rarely cuddle in the same position twice in one day: you’re constantly shifting around and snuggling however you fall so one minute he’ll be spooning you and the next you’ll be laying on his chest; etc etc. Sometimes you wind up in positions that make it seem like you’re playing twister instead of cuddling but you’re still somehow just as comfy as you would be if you were just plain spooning; even if you’re sometimes confused as to how you got there.

- You watched The Long, Hot Summer when you were younger and you’d always been under the impression that bodies like Paul Newman's were only ever found on movie stars and body builders; up until you came across Steve Randle and his proclivity towards not wearing shirts.... You’re always surprised by how little he’s hit on because you can’t keep your eyes off of him; especially when he’s working up a sweat and only paying attention to whatever it is he’s doing at the time. And once he realizes why you can’t stop staring at him, it does wonders for his self esteem.

- Double dates with Soda. You know it’s gonna happen; don’t act surprised.

- Hanging out at the DX. You’ll usually just sit around and talk; occasionally helping them out with their work or bringing them something to eat that isn’t melted candy bars and cigarettes.

- I love him. I love him …but he’s absolutely filthy and sometimes you just have to pull out a handkerchief and go to town on him so he doesn't look like he just fell into a vat of tar and grease. Or you ask him if he wants to take a shower with you and watch as he follows you to the bathroom more obediently than you’ve ever seen him act before.

- Occasionally being manhandled; mainly when he wants to get you closer or just has the urge to touch you. You’ll teasingly joke that you’re gonna leave or that you’re mad at him and he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you back down onto the couch until you start to laugh and promise that you aren’t gonna go anywhere. He’ll also just occasionally pick you up and drop you down a foot away from where you were standing for no real reason at all; other than being a jerk.

- Don’t bring up the fact that you don’t know his actual address. Don’t bring up the fact that you check the Curtis house whenever you need to find him or the fact that he sneaks in through your window at night to sleep with you in your bed. Don’t bring up the fact that you’ve never actually met his father or know anything about his home life at all. He’ll tell you about it in due time; even if he brushes off how badly it hurts him in order to seem tuff.

- He’s definitely at some point; while bored because he gets bored quite a bit, taken that wallet chain that's attached to his pants and used it to tether the two of you together; waiting for you to notice while fighting to keep his smile down. You might not have noticed until you were literally forced to separate: both because he himself probably forgot about it and because the two of you walk so close together that it didn’t affect you in the slightest.

- It’s a well known fact that Steve is incredibly good with cars so don’t be surprised if he shows up at your house on the weekends and informs you that he needs to give you an oil change or something of the sort. Your car slowly starts to become his secondary vehicle and you can’t even bring yourself to be mad at the fact that you’ve effectively become your own cars passenger princess because you just like seeing him smile all boyishly behind the wheel too much.

- He isn’t normally a very talkative person but take him to a car show or a drag race or just plain ask him about a car on the street and he can talk your ear off for hours at a time. He’ll go on seven different tangents from a single question about make and model, and it’s honestly kind of cute to listen to since you rarely get to hear him speak so passionately about anything; let alone something that’s so easy to bring up in conversation.

- Listen, he isn’t artistic in the slightest but I can see him making little things for you out of old car parts and other junk that he finds around the DX. He just sort of fiddles with things until they look nice, presenting it to you like a cool rock as he walks you home later that day; twisting it around for you to look at before he hands it over and tries his best to act nonchalant when he thinks about how hard he worked to perfect it and how worried he was that you weren’t gonna like it.

- Going to games with him, Soda, and whichever girl Soda’s hanging out with at the time; or just him and Soda.

- He’s always taken aback by how soft your hands are in comparison to his. Speaking of: he probably let you give him a manicure once because you begged him to, and though he sat there and scowled/pouted the entire time, he didn’t wrench his hands away either; so you considered it a win.

- Almost every single greaser in Tulsa blasts their music so loud that you’ll think you’ll go deaf so that’s sort of just something you’re gonna have to get used to; especially since you’re dating one of the worst offenders in town.

- Unlike some other members of the gang, Steve still goes to school; even though he doesn’t care too much about what his grades look like. He’s made a habit of walking you to class and mean mugging anyone who looks like they’d give you trouble; even though it means he’s late to his own classes 90% of the time.

- Steve will take you out on a date, he will get bored halfway through, and he will spend the rest of the night with his arm around your shoulders, leading you on a wild goose chase for “something better to do”. All before feeling bad about it; not realizing that you’d walk through broken glass with him and call it a date because doing anything with him is much more fun than not being with him.

- Him giving you money for the jukebox. He always playfully warns you not to play something stupid; and he usually means the Beatles.

- Laying your heads on each others laps; though you might want to wait until he’s had a shower so that you don’t ruin your clothes with his numerous hair products.

- Always having your faces pressed together in pictures. It just sort of became your go to pose; whether you wind up cheek to cheek or forehead to jaw.

- He spent a solid year saving up to buy you a bracelet that he got specially engraved for you with both your initials in a heart and a message on the inside of it, and the minute he gave it to you, you knew you were gonna be buried in it.

- He always insists on paying for your dates; mainly because he’d feel like a wimp if he didn’t and because he steals so much of everything else that he’s got enough money to spare. He takes you out whenever his dad gives him a hard time and tries to make up for it with money.

- He almost always has a candy bar ready for you after school because he drives out with some of the gang during lunch and stops by a convenience store instead of sitting in the cafeteria. They’re usually slightly melted but you appreciate them nonetheless; especially since you know he tried his best to keep them pristine and that anyone else would have either eaten them already or completely squashed it in their pocket.

- Going to different Greaser hangouts. There’s definitely a few diners or clubs in town that both scare and excite you due to how tuff they’re decorated and the types of people you’re in the company of. It doesn’t help that he occasionally abruptly steers you away from where you were heading because you “don’t want to get near that guy”, but I digress.

- Going with him to drag races.

- Listen, he absolutely thought that it was silly, but there was a time in your relationship where you just got new shoes and you made the mistake of going down a path that had a lot of mud on it. You hesitated because you really didn’t want to get them dirty and he was gonna give you a hard time about it but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He could see on your face just how much you liked them and could only imagine just how much you paid for them so he paused for a minute before holding out his hand and carrying you over. You thanked him and he brushed it off with some comment about how maybe one day you’ll “blind some Soc with how white those things are” but the fondness in his voice told you that he wasn't being mean.

- He definitely winks at you before he arm wrestles somebody and says something along the line of “this ones for you babe.”.

- I love the idea of Pining!Steve so I raise you this scenario: the two of you are playing cards and you keep on losing and he can see it on your face that you’re getting sort of bored and sick of playing so he throws the game and watches as a smile lights up your face and you straighten up for another round. He knows right then and there that he’s gonna lose a whole lot more games in the very near future but he can’t even bring himself to care because he’s just happy that you’re gonna be willing to play with and spend more time with him; even if he hides his hopefulness with a comment about beginners luck.

- He likes making you laugh, making you smile; all that good stuff. He gets all proud of himself whenever he manages to do it; mainly because he’s always been a bit envious of how effortlessly Sodapop seems to do it. He loves the fact that he can win you over just as easily as his best friend does everyone else; regardless of whether he does it with pickup lines or acrobatic tricks meant to impress.

- Teasing each other. Steve’s smart; like really smart, and oftentimes it comes out in snarky comments and quick wit. The two of you can go back and forth all night if you wanted to, and sometimes you do just because its something to do and he cant be bored for more than a few minutes at a time.

- Fighting is just a part of his life and it’s definitely not something he’s gonna stop anytime soon; though he might try to hide it from you if you really get on his case about it. It’s better to be subtly disappointed than to try and argue with him; at least then you know that he isn’t gonna die from an infected cut because he didn’t let you patch him up.

- Steve’s oddly observant and you blame it on the fact that he can never just sit still and relax. He’s full of energy and distracted by every little thing, and you can’t even bring yourself to be annoyed by it because it’s saved you from public humiliation time and time again. He’s always the first one to spot if there’s something on your shirt or if there’s danger nearby and he makes sure to silently solve the issue before anyone else can take notice of it; sometimes even yourself.

- Speaking of: I can see there being a period in time where the two of you aren’t even dating yet; and possibly don’t even like each other, and he’ll unknowingly commit psychological warfare on you with this strange little habit of his. You’ll arrive at your mutual hangout and he’ll stare at you for a solid thirty seconds, and just before you can snap out a frustrated “what?”, he’ll render you speechless with a “you did your eyeliner different today”; and you’ll think about it for the rest of the week.

- For someone who would rather die than have a heart to heart about his emotions, Steve’s surprisingly protective over you and yours. You’ve never met a man who takes such an active role in ensuring that you’re left alone whenever you’re upset: snapping at people to “drop it” and give you space whenever you subtly imply that you don’t want to talk about something or seem uncomfortable in any way. It’s always a relief to have him around; knowing that he’s always willing to “be the bad guy”.

- You try your best to make his relationship with Ponyboy a bit more civil but once you feel like you’ve finally gotten somewhere, word gets out that Ponyboy has a tiny crush on you and all of your progress is immediately lost. It’s honestly kind of funny watching him get jealous of a fourteen year old, but I digress.

- I think that most of the time, Steve is pretty reasonable with his jealousy; or is at least reasonable when it comes to his reaction towards you in response to it. For the most part, he trusts you and it’s obvious in the way he behaves: almost always lashing out at the guy in question instead of you; since he’s usually close enough to see that you aren’t interested in anything the man has to say. I guess he’s more protective than he is jealous.

- And protective he is. Steve likes getting into fights; he’s got a lot of energy and a lot of hate so he’s always itching for a reason to hit something, and you seem like a hell of a good reason to throw a punch. He loves you more than anything and he’s willing to do whatever he can to keep you safe. He might not be a perfect boyfriend but you’ve never met another man willing to put himself out there and deliver some threat to a mean girl or two faced friend of yours or kick some guys teeth in, and you think that has to count for something.

- Steve’s got a bad temper and sometimes, he just isn’t great at keeping a muzzle on himself; not to mention the times where he argues just for something to do, so the two of you fight pretty often; usually with varying levels of intensity. Even so, he tends to regret it when you don’t want to see him the next time he sees you or if a sliver of his father comes out in your voice, telling him something like “you just get out and don't bother coming back” or how you “don't ever wanna see him again”.

- He’s always really impatient when you’re mad at him; constantly fighting back the urge to walk up and talk to you whenever he sees you out in public, so it doesn't take him long to try and apologize for whatever happened between the two of you. Usually, something like “come on, you know I didn't mean it” or “you know I love you” will fall from his lips and though you’d love to hold a grudge, you just can’t find it in you.

- There’s not many ‘I love you’’s in your relationship but he says it every now and again; usually on special occasions or random times that you cant quite tell why he’s saying it. Sometimes you think he does it just to hear you say it back: like after he’s had a fight with someone he cares about and wants to feel like someone gives a crap about him

- Steve doesn’t usually talk about the future but a part of it is just because it’s already set in his mind. Without thinking, he assumes you’re both on the same page. And since you are, why should he have to say he wants to marry you or that you’ll be together forever?

#steve randle imagine #steve randle headcanons #steve randle headcanon #steve randle imagines #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders headcanon #the outsiders headcanons #80s movie imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

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