#dallas winston angst

[thewulf]

Second Sunrise || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - Dally x buck merril's cousin!reader who buck adopted bc her parents were abusing her.

A/N: Ahhh protective Dally is the best kind of Dally!! This is a heavier one, please look at the trigger warnings before reading. Hope you guys enjoy.

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Buck Merril Cousin)

Word Count: 5.2k +

TW: ABUSE, talks of abuse, hitting, bruises, cuts, blood, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings

The night at Buck's Rodeo Bar was buzzing with life. The jukebox played a raucous country tune while laughter and the clink of beer glasses filled the air. Neon lights cast a glow over the rustic scene illuminating the wood-paneled walls adorned with rodeo memorabilia. Behind the bar, Buck Merril, the owner, and a towering figure with an easy smile, was busy serving drinks. He handed another beer to Dallas "Dally" Winston who wasn’t just a regular; he lived in the small apartment right above the bar.

"Here’s another on the house," Buck said, wiping his hands on a towel. "So, Dal, still finding trouble or is trouble finding you?" He smirked knowing how tuned into trouble his friend was.

Dally was reclining against the bar with his leather jacket just catching the light gave Buck a wry grin. "A bit of both, I guess. Keeps life interesting. What’s been going on with you?"

Buck's gaze shifted to the end of the bar where a young woman was quietly serving customers. His expression softened a bit as he nodded towards her. "You see that girl over there? The one with the tray full of drinks?"

Dally followed Buck’s nod, observing her. She seemed out of place with her reserved demeanor.  Almost too gentle for the rough-and-tumble crowd of the bar. "Yeah, I see her. What about her?"

"That’s my cousin," Buck revealed. His voice lowering even as he kept his tone casual. "Took her in a few months back. Found her in a real bad way... her folks were the ones hurting her. Had to step in and bring her here."

The typical hardness in Dally’s eyes softened. A rare flicker of concern showing through as he took a longer look at her. "That’s rough. How’s she doing now?"

"She’s getting by day by day. It’s tough though, especially at night," Buck explained as his eyes tracked her movements. You skillfully avoided drawing attention to yourself. "She doesn’t talk much about it… tries to keep her head down."

Dally nodded slowly. His usual detached demeanor shifting towards something more thoughtful. "She got a name?"

"Her name's Y/N," Buck said, a touch of pride in his voice. "She's a tough one but you know how it is... the past has a way of holding on."

Dally took a sip of his beer. His gaze lingering on you as you laughed softly at something a customer said. "Maybe I’ll introduce myself, see if she needs anything. Living up here it’d be good to have someone to talk to who understands."

Buck clapped Dally on the back, grateful. "I’d appreciate that and I think she would too. She could use a friend around here."

As Buck moved off to attend to another customer Dally watched you carefully across the bar. There was a quiet strength about you that reminded him of his own struggles, sparking an unexpected sense of kinship. He decided he'd make the first move later that night. A simple gesture of solidarity from one survivor to another.

On a chilly a few months prior during the evening Buck was at a local bar, not his own. He was just enjoying a quiet drink away from his usual crowd. The place was less crowded, dimly lit, with the usual murmur of hushed conversations filling the air.

At the far end of the bar Buck overheard a familiar voice rising above the low din. It was his uncle, Y/N's father, drunk and bitterly ranting to anyone who would listen. Buck’s ears perked up as the harsh words cut through the buzz of the bar.

"Yeah, that worthless girl of mine," his uncle slurred, his voice dripping with contempt, "Nothing but a dumb whore. Ain’t good for nothing but to kick around. She’s just like her mother. Can’t do nothing right."

The bar’s patrons shifted uncomfortably. Some trying to ignore the man, others glancing sympathetically towards Buck knowing the already strained relationship. Buck’s jaw tightened with anger and a fierce protectiveness rising within him. He had known your home life was troubled, but the cruel reality had never been so blatantly laid out before him.

With a hard slam of his glass on the counter Buck stood up, his decision made in an instant. He left the bar and drove straight to your house. His mind racing with every turn of the wheel. When he arrived, the scene was as bad as he had feared, maybe worse.

He found you in the corner of her dimly lit living room. Your form small and battered. A stark contrast to the storm raging outside. Your mother was the only other person present, her demeanor anxious and defensive as Buck burst through the door.

"What the hell is going on here?" Buck’s voice thundered through the small space as he quickly assessed the situation. His eyes darting from you to your mother.

Your mother tried to intercept him with her voice shaky. "Buck, you shouldn’t be here—"

"It’s too late for that," Buck cut her off. His voice firm and resolute. "I just heard that excuse of a father of hers at the bar, bragging about how he treats Y/N. I’m taking her with me. She’s not staying here another minute."

Overwhelmed and cornered your mother wilted under Buck’s stern gaze. "You can’t just take her. She—"

"I’m not asking," Buck stated flatly. His decision was clear in his tone. "I’m telling you how it’s going to be. If you have any objections we can go through the authorities."

He approached you, his demeanor softening as he reached out to help you up. "Let’s go, Y/N. You’re safe now. You’re with me."  With a comforting hand on your back Buck led you out of the house and into the safety of his car. The rain started as the two of you drove away washing over the car.

Dally watched you move through the bar. Your interactions tinged with the newfound stability that Buck had given you. His thoughts on your resilience deepened. His respect for Buck’s bold intervention reinforcing his desire to get to know you better. The bond of shared struggles was forming, unspoken yet palpable in the busy bar.

You moved with a gentle grace. Your smile was warm yet reserved as you took orders and delivered drinks. Your interactions were polite and professional, yet there was a hint of wariness in your eyes. A shadow that seemed to linger from your past. As you paused to reset a table, straightening the condiments, and wiping down the surface, your attention to detail spoke of someone who took pride in your work. Dally thought that perhaps you found solace in the routines.

Dally’s gaze followed your movements until he found himself standing up, driven by an impulse to bridge the gap between them. He approached the bar where she was lining up drinks on a tray.

"Hey," Dally started. His voice slightly hesitant as he leaned against the bar. "You’re Y/N, right? Buck’s cousin?"

You looked up with a flicker of surprise crossing your features before you nodded hesitantly, clearly unsure of the man standing before you. "Yeah, that’s me. And you are?"

"Dally," he replied offering a small, reassuring smile. "I live upstairs. Heard a lot about you from Buck. Said you’re tough. I can respect that."

A trace of a smile touched your lips. Your guard lowering just a bit. "Thanks, I guess. It’s been a... well, it’s been quite a time adjusting here."

Dally picked up a coaster, spinning it between his fingers. "I get it. Had my share of rough patches too. Buck’s a good guy, though. You landed in a decent spot."

"Yeah he’s been great," You agreed with him. Your hands busying themselves with the drinks attempting to hide a slight tremor. "I’m just trying to make the best of it now."

"Mind if I help you carry these over?" Dally gestured towards the tray. He was eager to extend the interaction, to find more common ground with you. You seemed so hesitant and afraid. Not that he could blame you.

You paused for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Sure, that’d be nice. Table six, over there."

As you walked over to the table together Dally felt the initial awkwardness begin to dissipate. "So, you ever think about what’s next or you just taking it one day at a time?"

"One day at a time, really," You said as you reached the table being careful to set down the drinks with a thankful smile from the patrons. "But I like it here. It feels like a fresh start away from… them."

Dally nodded feeling a kinship in your words. "Fresh starts are good. Hard but good. If you ever need someone to talk to or anything, I’m just upstairs. Sometimes it helps talking to someone who gets it."

You looked at him with your expression softening further. "Thanks Dally. I might just take you up on that offer." For the first time in a while a genuine smile crossed your face at his words.

Over the next few weeks, a subtle shift began to unfold between you and Dally at Buck’s bar. What started as casual exchanges of small talk over the bar counter deepened into late-night conversations that lingered long after the last customer had left.

One evening as the neon signs were turned off and the bar quieted down you found yourself sitting at one of the tables with Dally with a deck of cards spread out between you. He had insisted on teaching you poker, claiming that it was a sin you didn’t know how to play. That got a laugh out of you as you agreed with him. The game was merely a pretense. It was a backdrop to the intimate dialogue that wove between you two. You touched on topics neither of you usually shared with others.

"So, do you have any dreams? Like things you wanna do now that you’ve got a fresh start?" Dally asked. His hands idly shuffling the cards almost afraid to look into your eyes.

You paused as you traced the wood grain of the table with your finger. "I don’t know," you confessed softly. "I used to think a lot about traveling. Seeing places that are totally different from here. Maybe write about them. But that doesn’t really seem possible. What about you?" You tried your best to flip it around on him.

Dally let out a soft, wistful laugh. "Me? I’ve never been much of a dreamer. Always been about getting through the day. But I guess, maybe, finding some peace? Could be nice to have a real shot at something stable, you know?" He’d told you all about his shitty situation that made your heart hurt for him. How could anyone be so cruel to him? Sure, he had a rough exterior but had anybody ever tried to get to know Dallas Winston? He was a sweetheart through and through. Albeit a little awkward about it but he always seemed to put your needs ahead of his. How could you not start to fall for him?

Your eyes met then met his with a mutual understanding crossing between you. Both of you knew what it was like to long for something more than just survival, more than the daily struggles that had so often defined your lives.

As autumn deepened and the nights grew colder your meetings at the bar became a regular fixture. Sometimes you would both sit in silence each lost in your own thoughts yet comforted by the presence of the other. Other times you would share stories of your pasts—guarded tales of pain and resilience that you entrusted to each other.

One winter evening as you walked back from a nearby diner that Dally and you had become accustomed to you wrapped your arms around yourself against the chill. Dally noticed and without a word draped his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of you broached the subject of what the hell was going on. Rather you simply just decided to enjoy the others company. It was easy with him. A rarity in your fucked up world.

"Thanks," you murmured. Your cheeks flushing slightly as you pulled the jacket tighter around you. “You sure? It’s cold.”

"I’m sure. It’s nothing," Dally replied with his voice low. "You know, talking to you... it’s the first time in a long while I’ve felt like someone actually gets it." His eyes looked everywhere but yours. A slight flush crossed his features as he admitted so. You’d come to learn how difficult these emotional conversations were for him. But you did get it. They were hard for you too. Neither of you were raised with love. You were always the second thought. The bitch daughter or the troubled son.

You nodded to him with your eyes reflecting the streetlights. "I feel the same. It’s weird, isn’t it? How talking can make things seem a bit lighter." You tried reassuring him with your words.

You continued your walk-in comfortable silence, whatever it was between the two of you growing with every shared glance and laugh. By the time you reached the bar again your laughter echoed softly in the empty street. You’d never laughed so much in your life as you did when you were with him.

The bar was alive with the usual Friday night revelry as you knew Buck needed your help. Once you entered the bar you waved Dally off with that genuine smile he adored so much. The air was filled with laughter and the twang of country tunes. You stood behind the bar pouring drinks and sharing easy smiles. You felt more secure and content than you ever had in your life. Dally was there too. He didn’t want to leave or go upstairs after your dinner not date. He watched you from across the room with a protective gaze that had become a comforting fixture in your life.

But the fragile peace shattered the moment your father staggered through the door.

His arrival cut through the noise like a cold front. His eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you behind the bar. With a cruel smirk twisting his lips he made his way over to you. Each step heavy with menace. You tensed when he stood in front of you. Your hands gripped the edge of the bar trying to ground yourself back into the situation. Why? Why couldn’t he have just left you alone? It’d been months and you hadn’t heard from him. Why did he have to come now?

"Y/N.” He spit your name out with vengeance. “You think you can hide from me?" He slurred.  His voice loud and filled with malice. He reached over the bar grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him. You should’ve expected it, but the shock of his arrival had you paralyzed. His other hand struck your face. His ring cutting a sharp line across your cheek. You let out a quiet yelp as the pain burned bright.

The bar fell silent. The music fading into the background. Before you could react, Dally was there in an instant. His presence like a storm. He grabbed your father by the collar and threw him back with such force that your father stumbled and fell onto his back with a heavy thud.

"You lay your hands on her again and I swear it'll be the last thing you do," Dally thundered, standing over him. His fists clenched and ready. His breathing was heavy as he looked like he truly would kill him should he try that again.

Your father, sprawled on the floor, looked up at Dally with a mix of shock and rage. "You stupid worthless whore!" he spat at you. His words echoing through the now silent bar. He jumped to his feet attempting to get his hands back on you.

Dally’s response was swift though. His fist connected with your father's face, a sharp, resounding impact that sent him back to the ground, blood spattering from his lip. All you could do was gape at the situation unfolding before you.

Buck rushed over appearing out of nowhere. His face set in a hard line. "That's enough!" he declared standing beside Dally. His eyes bore the same expression of Dally’s, "Get out of my bar and don't come back. Next time I'm calling the cops."

With a hand from Dally your father was hauled to his feet and shoved towards the door. His exit was met with relieved sighs and a few scattered claps from the patrons, but the atmosphere remained tense. You couldn’t seem to focus on what would come next as your eyes were trained on Dallas and only him.

As the door slammed shut behind your father leaving the bar in an uneasy silence. Dally turned his gaze back on you. His heart nearly shattered seeing your bleeding face mixing with a few tears that’d slipped down. He could see the pain flicker across your face not just from the cut but from the reopened wounds of your past. Slowly he walked back over to you with his hands up. He didn’t want to freak you out further than you were. With a gentle touch that contrasted sharply with the fierce protection he had just displayed Dally leaned in close.

"Come on sweetheart. Let's get that cleaned up," he said softly nodding towards the staircase that led to his apartment above the bar.

You hesitated. A mix of emotions swirling within you—gratitude, relief, but also a deep-seated fear from the confrontation. Sensing your hesitation Dally offered a reassuring smile. "I promise you, you're safe with me."

Trusting him you allowed Dally to lead you up the stairs to his modest living space. The apartment was small but welcoming with a warmth that felt comforting after the cold violence of the night. Dally guided you to a seat at the small kitchen table, then wet a clean cloth with warm water and approached you gently.

"May I?" he asked. His tone was more tender than you’d ever heard from him. You nodded and he carefully dabbed at the cut on your cheek. His touch was so light you could barely feel it. As he tended to your wound the kindness of the act—so at odds with the harshness you had grown used to—overwhelmed you and a fresh set of tears began to stream down your face.

Dally brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured while he set aside the cloth to pull a chair up close beside you. He sat down. His brown eyes searching yours. They were so full of empathy. "You don't have to hold it all in, sweetheart. Not here."

You looked into Dally’s eyes seeing there not just the rugged survivor of the streets, but a kindred spirit who had seen his share of pain and still chose kindness. With a shaky breath you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

Dally wrapped his arms around you holding you gently. "You're safe here, Y/N. As long as you need, as long as you want."

In that quiet space with Dally's steady presence enveloping you, the fear and tension that had knotted in your chest began to dissolve. His apartment was small and unassuming, but it felt like a sanctuary and his embrace a shield against the chaos of your past.

The night wound down quietly with you and Dally sitting together. The two of you talked softly about nothing and everything until the early morning light began to seep through the curtains. It was the first night in forever where you felt truly safe, truly seen.

As the first light of dawn painted the walls of Dally's apartment a soft, warm hue, the room was filled with a sense of quiet intimacy that had grown over the course of the night. Sitting side by side on the worn couch both you and Dally were enveloped in a reflective silence. The kind that follows after a storm of emotions.

Dally was the first to break the silence,. His gaze fixed on the faint light peeking through the blinds before turning to look at you. "You know," he began with his voice low and a little rough from the long night, "tonight was a mess, but it kinda cleared up something for me."

Your heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you met his eyes. "What's that?" you asked softly. You were almost afraid to hear the answer but desperate to know.

Dally took a deep breath as his hand found yours. His fingers gently intertwining with yours. "It's you," he said simply. "All this craziness... it made me realize how much I care about you. More than I thought possible, actually."

Hearing his words a warmth spread through you, mingling with the fatigue from the night’s events. You squeezed his hand, the gesture simple but filled with meaning. "Dally, I feel the same. I didn't know how to say it before, but you've become so important to me."

The corner of Dally’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. A hint of his usual cockiness peeking through his tired features. "Yeah? That’s good to hear, 'cause I wasn’t sure how you’d take it." You giggled at that feeling a sense of euphoria at how this all actually turned out.

As the conversation dwindled, a yawn escaped you breaking the tender moment with its stark reminder of the night’s toll on your body. Dally chuckled softly. He pat his leg in a gentle, inviting gesture. "C'mere, sweetheart. Lay down here and close your eyes. I’ll be right here when you wake up."

Grateful and too exhausted to protest you shifted closer, laying your head on his thigh as he adjusted to make you comfortable. His hand found your hair, fingers brushing softly through it in a soothing rhythm.

With the comfort of his presence and the security of his promise you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, sleep overtaking you swiftly. The last thing you felt was Dally’s protective gaze and the gentle pressure of his hand in your hair. It was a silent vow of his commitment to be there no matter what came next.

As you settled against Dally your breath evening out in the quiet rhythm of sleep, he watched the soft rise and fall of your shoulders. A sense of peace settling over him. The apartment was quiet now the only sound the faint hum of the city awakening outside. In this moment, with the early morning light casting gentle shadows across your face, Dally found himself in a rare state of contemplation.

His hand rested gently on your head. His fingers lightly tracing through your hair. It was a simple, almost unconscious gesture that soothed both of you. The weight of the night's events lingered in his mind—the confrontation, the fear in your eyes, the way his heart had raced when he stood up for you. It all solidified something he'd only begun to admit to himself: how deeply he cared for you, how fiercely he wanted to protect you. How he may have even loved you.

As he watched you sleep Dally’s thoughts drifted. He was used to solitude, to the rough and tumble of a life lived on the edges. But sitting here with you breathing softly against him, he felt a pull towards something different. Something more. It was terrifying and new. This feeling of wanting to belong to someone, of wanting someone to belong with him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable with another person or if he ever truly had. But with you it felt right. It felt necessary. He realized that this—caring for you, being there for you—might be the closest thing to home he had ever known.

The morning grew brighter, light filling the room and Dally’s own eyelids began to droop. The exhaustion from the night's adrenaline and the emotional toll of opening his heart were catching up with him. But he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to risk waking you. He wanted you to sleep as long as you needed, to wake up feeling safe and cared for.

His hand continued to run through your hair slowly, rhythmically, until his own eyes finally closed. Sleep overtaking him in the quiet comfort of his apartment. Even in sleep, his presence remained steadfast. A promise to be there when you woke up, and for whatever came next.

As the morning sun climbed higher with its rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains the apartment above Buck’s Rodeo Bar held a quiet, peaceful scene. Dally and you were asleep as an unspoken love formed in the shared silence of rest after a tumultuous night. However, this tranquility was soon interrupted by the sound of the apartment door swinging open with casual familiarity.

Buck strolled in with a steaming coffee cup in one hand and a bag of breakfast sandwiches in the other. His voice breaking the morning calm with a playful tone. "Well, look what we have here," he exclaimed. "Our very own knight in shining armor and his damsel tucked away from the world. You two sure skedaddled out of the bar pretty quick last night. Place your bets, folks!" He snickered seeing you and him so coziest up on the couch together.

Before Buck could spin another jest Dally's eyes snapped open, immediately alert. His protective instincts still sharp from the night before, flared up at the intrusion. “Buck, shut the hell up. She’s sleeping.” Dally hissed with his tone both irritated and fiercely protective. He glanced down quickly to make sure you were still out, undisturbed by the noise of your cousin.

Buck paused at the threshold, a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he took in the scene—the way you were nestled comfortably against Dally, his hand resting protectively in your hair even in sleep. "Oh man, Dally’s gone soft," Buck teased in a low voice chuckling to himself. "Never thought I’d see the day. Truly."

He set down the coffee and sandwiches on the kitchen counter. His movements now deliberately quiet though his eyes twinkled with mirth. “I’ll keep it down. You lovebirds need your rest after all those heroics last night.”

Dally just glared at him, but his posture relaxed slightly as he saw that you were still sleeping peacefully. His gaze softened as he looked back down at you. The fierceness melting into something tender and caring.

Buck watched the exchange. His chuckle deepening as he backed out of the room shaking his head in amusement. “I’ll be downstairs,” he murmured before pulling the door almost closed behind him. "Don’t rush Dally. The world can wait."

As the door clicked shut Dally’s hand resumed its gentle motion through your hair, his eyes lingering on your face. He let out a quiet sigh while the tension eased from his shoulders. The world outside could indeed wait. Right now, being in this quiet moment was all that mattered. He wanted to keep you safe making sure you felt cared for. And as he settled back closing his eyes once more he knew deep down that whatever came next, he was ready. So long as it was with you.

Later that day after a few more hours of much-needed sleep, you and Dally made your way back down to Buck’s bar. The place had regained its usual lively atmosphere with the afternoon crowd bringing a bustling energy that filled the air with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.

You and Dally settled into a quiet corner booth a bit removed from the hustle and bustle. The events of the previous night still lingered in the air between you. An acknowledgment of everything that had happened and everything that was still unspoken.

Dally slid into the booth across from you his demeanor relaxed but his eyes keen, watching you with a softness that was new. "So," he started while breaking the comfortable silence, "feels like we got through some kind of storm, huh?"

You nodded wrapping your hands around a warm cup of coffee that Buck had brought over. His knowing wink making you both smile. "Yeah it does. But it feels like it’s clearing up now," you replied before meeting Dally's gaze with a hopeful smile.

Dally's lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. "I think so too. We've been through a lot, but maybe it's just what we needed."

"Right," you agreed. Your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

The conversation drifted then to lighter topics. Plans for the bar, stories from Dally's wilder days, your dreams of traveling, and with each story and shared laugh the love between you deepened. It was as if the foundations for something new and hopeful were being laid down with each passing moment.

As the afternoon wore on the bar began to fill up with the evening crowd. The music grew louder and the sounds of a lively night taking shape swirled around you. Yet, in your quiet corner of the bar it felt like a sanctuary with him.

Finally, Dally reached across the table taking your hand in his. His gaze conveyed a silent promise of support, understanding without needing to articulate it. The clamor of the bar seemed to fade into the background as Dally broke the silence. "Hey," he said. His voice softer than the din around you, "I was thinkin'... How 'bout we go out tomorrow? Just you and me, no chaos, no drama. We could take my bike, hit the road, see where it takes us."

Your heart that was already warmed by his earlier protectiveness leapt at the invitation. His offer was simple but filled with the promise of new memories, new experience. Just Dally and you learning the rhythms of each other's joy. "I'd like that," you replied with a grin. Your voice equally soft. "A real date, huh?"

Dally's smirk was one of triumph mixed with a bashfulness that you had come to find so endearing. "Yeah, a real date with a beautiful girl," he confirmed. "Figured it's about time we did something normal for a change sweetheart."

The bar around you hummed with life. The energy of people embarking on their nightly escapades, the clatter of glasses and the laughter serving as a backdrop to this quiet, pivotal moment between you and Dally. It symbolized not just a return to normalcy but the blossoming of something new. Something hopeful.

As Dally's thumb gently caressed the back of your hand you felt a chapter closing on the past and a new one beginning. Here in the heart of the bar's fervor you found a peaceful anticipation for the future. This wasn't just an end to the turmoil that had swept you into Dally's life. It was the start of a journey together. A journey that promised the warmth of shared sunrises, the thrill of open roads, and the comfort of hands held tight in solidarity.

In the cacophony of the bar, you both found a shared rhythm. A mutual understanding that this was just the beginning. And with Dally's hand in yours, the future, once so uncertain, now seemed filled with endless possibilities.

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[cranberrv]

thunder

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston loses his temper

( a/n : HIII im sorry if this wasnt ur vision but i dont think dallas is one for big apologies so i kinda focused on the arguement more than the apology hope that’s ok… also toxic dallas alert sorry if that isnt ur scene!! also not proofread but hope u cuties enjoy )

it was a late night in mid-summer, and you and dallas were on the porch on the curtis brothers house. he wanted to go out for a smoke, and dragged you along. you were wearing his leather jacket, it was a windy night and you were getting chilly. dallas had goosebumps along his arms.

“are you sure you don’t want it back, dal?” you ask him, insisting on giving him his jacket back.

“nah, sugar, don’t want ya freezin’ to death out here,” he answers, taking a drag of his cigarette as he looks out at the empty street.

“i’ll just go inside, though, so you don’t get hypothermia or something..” you insist, but he grabs your hand and stops you.

“you’re fine, baby, stay with me.” you look up at him and nod, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

you stand outside for a little while longer. it feels so peaceful standing there with him. his hand that’s rough and dangerous from the punches it throws is enveloping yours in a sweet gentleness shown only with you. his cigarette smoke becoming a mock mist that calms you both down. his deep breathes that are only heard because of how quiet it is.

nothing could ruin this moment.

you felt it was a good time to say the three words. not like you hadn’t said them before — it’s been a year since you’ve started dating, and you’ve both adored each other from the very start. but dallas got funny when you told him what he already knew. tonight would be different, you thought.

“.. i love ya, dal,” you say softly after a few moments of quiet. it felt casual — exactly what he would have wanted. but maybe not casual enough, because there was a short silence following your words.

eventually, he speaks. “i know ya do, sugar.”

you sigh. why is it that he could never stand to say it back?

he catches your sigh. of course he knows what you’re sighing about — he knows you all too well. he chooses not to act on it, not to apologize, not to say anything. he doesn’t want to fight with you. he just takes a drag of his cigarette and plays innocent.

“it would be nice to know that you loved me too, dallas,” you eventually say.

“oh c’mon,” another drag of his cigarette. “you ain’t an idiot, you know i do.”

“do i? i can’t remember one time you’ve said ‘i love you’ to me,” you cross your arms and look up at him.

“this isn’t somethin’ to get pressed on, y/n, the boys are inside and the windows are open,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to stop talking, to pretend like you’re okay. all because he doesn’t want his friends to hear. “and i have said it, baby, you’re just forgetting or somethin’.”

“you have not, i would remember if you have,” you counter, shoving his hand off of you. “i don’t want to argue, dallas, i really don’t—“

“too damn bad, y/n, because you’re sayin’ that i don’t love you, and we both know that ain’t true,”

“then say it.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. “it has been a whole year of us dating, and you’re never ready to say that you love me,” you raise your voice to get your point across.

“christ, y/n, you’re difficult, huh?” he groans. “it ain’t a big deal, don’t go throwing a tantrum.”

“i’m difficult? dallas, i don’t know if you get how a relationship works, but at this point, you either love me, or you’re done with me. there is no middle ground after this long together.”

“you’re fuckin’ crazy, i know how a relationship works, and i ain’t done with you. don’t go stickin’ words in my mouth,” his voice is raising, too.

“if you’re not done with me, then you love me.” you say, in a desperate attempt to get him to say the three words. you almost want to beg. “it hurts, dallas, that i don’t get that reassurance, that i leave our dates with my words hanging in the air, waiting for a reply,”

he groans. “you know that i do, so what’s the fuckin’ point?”

“you’re unbelievable.”

he scoffs, his voice raising. not quite yelling, but definitely not talking. “holy fuck, you know that i love you, man, so quit bein’ such a bitch!”

the crease in your eyebrow drops as he says that. “don’t call me that,”

“c’mon, man, you’re acting like a fuckin’ lunatic trying to get me to admit somethin’ that i’ve already admitted,” he says, voice still raised. “take a deep breath, maybe get a glass of water, and come back to me once you’re normal again.”

you scoff. “because i’m expressing my feelings, suddenly i’m a lunatic? because i’m not like your old girls, and i actually strive for a healthy relationship, i’m not normal?”

“you’re freakin’ out because i didn’t say it back once, of course i think you’re going crazy.”

“i’m ‘freaking out’ because it’s been a year of ‘thank you’ and ‘i know’ whenever i tell you i love you,”

“you’re being a dumbass, y/n, you know i—“ he cuts himself off, sighing and taking a step back. “fine, man, whatever, you win. go inside and call bucks when you’ve cooled off, i’m goin’ home,”

when he walks past you, the air is thick and unwelcoming. you don’t even bother getting the last word, dreading the fact that he might turn back and lose his shit if you do. he mutters something incoherent under his breath, and walks down the creeky front porch steps, into the dead of night.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

of course, you don’t call bucks. why would you? just so buck can tell you that dallas isn’t there, when in reality he just doesn’t want to talk to you? just so suddenly you’re bending to his will, and he’s getting his way once again? you don’t think so.

dallas does this a lot — whenver you two fight, even if it’s a small one, he needs time to cool off. sometimes it’s a couple hours, sometimes it’s a day. it’s never stretched longer, until now. it’s been three torturous days of waiting for a grand gesture, an apology, anything.

the next day at school, you’re walking through the parking lot during your lunch break, talking to cherry valance and marcia about what happened between you and dallas. they say a lot of “told you so” and “that’s dallas for you”, and you can’t say they’re wrong. they warned you about him, and his reputation for being so short-tempered and stubborn.

the sound of an engine roars behind you, and you and your friends turn your heads to see who is making the noise. it’s a 1957 red thunderbird, you recognize it as buck merrill’s.

“that must be dal’s friend, buck,” you whisper to your friends. “but why would buck be here?”

“he’s a greaser, he’s probably like, 5 grades behind and coming here begging for another shot at graduation,” randy, marcia’s boyfriend, teases. you shoot him a glare, and he shuts up.

“i’ll go see whats up,” you say softly, walking over to the now-parked car.

as you walk over and the window rolls down. it is not buck merrill, like you expected, but it’s dallas winston.

“hi,” you say softly, your walls starting to go up but hesitating, wondering if you’re even still fighting.

“hey, sweetie,” he says, not explaining what he’s doing here.

“what’re doing?” you ask him.

he shrugs. “wanted to see you, i dunno.”

“oh,” you say softly. you hoped for an apology, you hoped for flowers, you hoped for chocolate, you hoped for a hug, you hoped for—

“i shouldn’t of gotten all heated when we talked, it wasn’t cool,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “and you ain’t a bitch.”

“..thanks.” you say after a few seconds of silence. what a shit apology, you think.

he’s staring out into the parking lot instead of you. “and i’m crazy about you, man,” he looks up at you. “you gotta know that, sugar.”

“thank you,” you repeat again, unsure of what to say.

another beat of silence as he swallows in his throat, before speaking and finally looking over at you. “i love ya, doll,”

you should’ve stayed mad, you should’ve not accepted his awful apology, but you cannot hide the smile tugging at your lips. this is all you’ve asked for from him, and he finally has the courage to admit it.

“i love you too, dallas.” you say softly, leaning into the window and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “thank you,”

“you gotta stop sayin’ that, y/n,” he teases, playfully pushing you away. “go hang out with your stupid friends, man. i’ll come over tonight and hang.”

you nod, and walk away, looking back at him and seeing a small smile on his face. nothing could ruin this moment.

[beautouslysandy]

blood before sunrise

dallas winston x gn!reader

by-sandy

word count- 988

warnings- angst, language, kinda gory, not proofread and lowercase intended

a/n 💌- this came to me in a dream last night and had to put it to life! this makes me cry. enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• the blood was dripping faster every second, you couldn’t go any faster. dallas had been shot and you were speeding down the road to the nearest hospital.

“your going to get us both killed, doll.” dallas said with a groan and a cough that was full of blood

“better than just you dying.” you said, you were furious he was fooling around and look what happened. but more than that you were freaking out, you couldn’t loose him. he is all you had left.

finally arriving at the hospital, you got out faster than light. opening the passenger door, you got him out his arm over your shoulder. him putting all his weight on you, giving him support.

“i am so sorry, doll.” he said, giving you a bloody kiss on the cheek.

“it’s okay, let’s just get you fixed up.” you said entering the hospital, the nurse immediately noticing you and taking dallas into custody.

”i love you, your gonna be okay.” you say not only trying to comfort him but yourself as well

“i love you too. i will be back, doll.” he said getting taken away by a few nurses. “stay here, ma’am.” a nurse said before heading in with the rest, behind those doors only authorized staff are allowed behind

all you could do was nod, looking down at you clothes they were covered in blood splotches from dallas's wounds. you went to the restrooms to try your best to clean up.

soon enough your face was cleaned of blood, pushing your sweaty hair off your face you headed to the nearest phone and entered in the curtis’ house phone number.

“hello?” a familiar husky voice answered

“darry? it’s me, y/n. dallas is in the hospital, he got shot.” you said, you began to hyperventilate at the words that came out of your mouth

“oh shit. we will be there. the town one, right?” he asked, you heard the worry in his voice

“yeah…” you said finally looking around the bleak hospital that provided no comfrot

“listen. he is gonna be alright, he is dallas winston.” darry said comforting you

“yeah, just worried.”

“there is nothing to worry about, he will be okay. see you soon, bye.”

“bye.”

you hung up the phone and placed it on the stand. heading to a chair, that was falsely advertised, it looked comfortable but it was the exact opposite.

you couldn’t do anything but stare at those doors. you were shaking, you needed him to be okay. why did he have to scare you like this.

“y/n?” a voice called, you turned to see all the boys.

“hey.” you said with a sniffle, you feel like crying your eyes out. you walk to them and they start asking what happened.

“doll go back inside!” dallas yelled, you we’re coming out of bucks when your boyfriend yelled that to you. soon yours eyes land on a group of socs, the one in the middle was holding a gun.

“dallas! no!” that was all you could get out before the shot was fired, you heard the thump of his body hitting the ground.

you ran to him faster than ever, holding him asking him questions to keep him awake.

“just get me to a hospital doll and everything will be alright.” he said with a groan

you did as he said, trying your best not to cause him any pain.

”damn socs.” steve said with an angry tone

“excuse me.” a squeaky voice said.

you all turned to see a small and piette female nurse.

“hi, i am looking for who came with dallas winston?” “me.” you said eager to know how he was doing

“i am so sorry, we did everything we could.” the nurse said with a sad smile.

everything stopped, everything. you started crying but you couldn’t feel it. you couldn’t feel anything. your world crumbled around you, only hearing the occasional muffling voices. you were saying something but you couldn’t even comprehend it. your own words and you had no clue what you were saying.

he was gone, this isn’t fair. he said he would be alright. he said he would be right back. “no. no. no.” you said shaking your said, those were the only words you could say between your hot tears.

“he said- he said.” you said starting to hyperventilate

“he can’t be gone. you have to be mistaken. he is my dallas, he isn’t gone. he isn’t.” you said wiping your tears now glaring at the nurse

“i am sorry but…he is. would you like his things?” the nurse said, she looked at darry

“liar. you…you’re lying.” you continued, bawling

“y/n…” darry said looking at you then the nurse “they would like his things, thank you.”

“she is lying, tell her darry. please, he said he would be alright. he said-“ you went on, as darry held you.

the nurse returned with dallas’s things in a hospital bag making you cry even harder. ponyboy looked through it finding his st. christopher necklace and handing it to darry so he could put it on you.

“thank you.” you said sniffling, playing with the necklace, taking the bag from ponyboy. “can i see him? please.” you asked the nurse

“of course, right this way.” she said leading you and the group to a hospital room

there he was, lying on the hospital bed. motionless. un-dallas like.

you started bawling, again. running to his body and hugging it. “why did you leave me, you ass. why? we had our whole life’s planned. why?” you said, the kissing his lips for the very last time. an hour later, darry had to pull you away. he insisted on you staying at the curtis house and that he would pick your car up later. the drive there was miserable. you felt emotionless, he is gone. the love of your life is gone. you have no one.

[spikedhe4rt]

can you please do a johnny smut with the reader giving johnny a hj and they keep edging him and he's really whiny and whimpers a lot? sorry if this is too specific! thank you

Sub!Johnny x Reader Smut

Word Count: 1221

I climbed on top on Johnny, situating myself. I kiss him, enveloping his soft and plump lips. He placed his hands tightly on my hips. "Fuck!" Johnny whimpered. I let out a giggle at his desperation. "Such a pathetic baby." I ran a teasing hand down his chest, my hand slipping under his shirt. He moaned as he felt my warm on his belly. "Please, take it off!" he squeaked out.

I smiled down at him, ready to give him a order. "Sit up. Now" He immediately sat up and followed my directions. I pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chest that was already covered in hickeys from yesterday. "Stand up for me!" He lifted himself from the bed slowly. "I love you so much, Johnny. You know that, right?"

He nodded with a whimper. I leaned into his warm body to kiss him deeply. My hands slit down to the button on his jeans, unfastening them quickly. Johnny groaned into the kiss, and brought a hand to my breasts. I pushed Johnny away from the kiss. "Take it off for me" He kicked his pants and underwear quickly, revealing his hard cock.

Johnny's cock was releasing beads of pre-cum by the second and rock hard. His cock was pulsing with need and reddish at the tip. It was begging for release and stimulation. He didn't know what was to come. Johnny the sat down on the bed, watching me as I was about to strip for him.

My hands slowly went down to the bottom of my tank top, lifting it teasingly over my head. My pink lacey bra with a pink bow in the middle to match was on display for him. Only for him. His dick twitched as he waited for me to lose my shorts next. "You're so pretty" he said to me. I smiled at him before pulling down my shorts, stepping out of them after.

I walked over to the bed and straddled Johnny, my clothed pussy rubbing against his naked cock slightly. I scooted back a little, adding more space between us. My lips found there way to his neck, peppering kisses on his neck. I bit down on the sensitive part on his neck then soothing it with my warm tongue. "Fuck. More!" he panted out.

I can already see the hickeys forming on his neck as he begged. I put my hand around his neck, pulling him towards me for a kiss. Our lips pushed together roughly. Johnnys tongue slipped into my mouth deepening the kiss. Fuck. I pulled away from him once again, eliciting a groan from him.

"Baby, please do something. Anything!" Johnny cried out. I nodded at him before grabbing his face, squishing his cheeks till his lips opened involuntarily. My other hand came up under his mouth, "Spit." I told him as I let his face go. Johnny leaned his head forward, his silky hair brushing his face to spit in my hand. My hand trailed down to his desperate cock.

The spit from my hand coated his cock that was already slightly wet from his precum. "Fuck. Feels so good, doll." I started to slowly stroke his dick at a slow, grueling pace. Johnny moaned loudly, his hips bucking up slightly into my hand. I placed a hand on his chest as I continued. "You look so handsome like this, Johnny." I whispered to him. He leaned into me, scanning over my features. "T-thank you"

The pace of my strokes picked up, making johnny cry out. "Please!" He breathed as he felt the change. I kept up my pace as he voice became more and more whiney and breathless. I knew that he would cum soon. I started to use both my hands to stroke his cock. One of my hands eventually came to add pressure to his leaky tip.

"Fuck! Im gonna cum. Please let me cum." I smirked at him, shaking my head. "No. Hold it for me!" He whimpered on what seemed like the verge of tears. "Oh fuck!" Johnny voice was raspy and soft as he begged for a release. I continued my work on his hard cock. "You sound so pretty, Johnny."

I could feel his overstimulated cock throb in my hold as I kept stroking. Sayings of " You like that don't you?" and "Not yet, baby." radiated as his "Feels so good." and "I wanna cum." filled the room. I brought a hand up to his mouth for more spit. He immediately filled my request, groaning as my hand returned to his cock. "Im getting close again! please!" I removed my hands completely from him completely. "You have to wait, baby."

He nodded, overstimulated, "Please give me your hands again!" I gave exactly what he needed. My left hand trailed down to his aching cock as my other went to his balls. I rubbed the velvety skin, increasing to his pleasure. Tears pricked his eyes as he knew he was getting edged for a third time. "Baby can I cum, please?" I shook my head with a smirk.

His whole face was tucked into my neck, tear streaming down. "Can I have kiss? Please!" I brought his head up and pressed a passionate kiss to his lips. Johnny put one of his hands on my hip and one on my throbbing clit. I got really worked up watching him beg. He began to rub slowly as I continued to stroke his overstimulated cock. "Fuck. You're such a good boy!"

My strokes began to get faster as I felt my own high building up. "Feels so good. Can I cum?" I started to kiss his neck before replying "Make me cum then I'll let you" Once Johnny heard my words, his fingers began to work faster. "You make me feel so good, Johnny. Shit!" My high was so close, about to tip over the edge. Johnny gave my puffy clit one last circle before my eye rolled back and I came all over his fingers.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out. I kissed Johnny, my tongue slipping into his mouth once again. I pulled away about to let him have his release. "Cum for me, Johnny." I told him with a nod, lip between my teeth. Johnny let out a loud moan before cumming hard on my hand. I brought my cum covered hand to my mouth, running my tongue over his release. After that, I brought him in for another kiss, making him taste himself slightly.

"Thank you, baby." he said as we began to lay down together. I looked at him in his eyes, lovingly, "I love you, Johnny." He kissed me softly "I love you more."

————————————————————————

A/N: Hi guys!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. My requests are always open!! I have a request chapter on this book and my dms are opens. I love you guys!!! <3

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: sodapop, ponyboy, johnny cade, and dallas winston

↳ warnings: mentions of being beaten up, various injuries, and angst. no actual description of being jumped

↳ notes: could be interpreted as romantic or platonic. had trouble trying to nail all of them down, so i hope i did them justice. reblogs and comments and greatly appreciated

↳ song: blue moon (take five)—elvis presely

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

• It's mid-day when he stumbles in from a long morning of working on cars down at the DX with Steve. Grease is all along the skin of his hands, and a different kind can be seen slicking back his hair, but that's nothing a hot shower can't fix

• He was on his way to do just that, enjoying the for once empty house as he did so, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw you splayed out on the couch

• You were so still his first thought was that you were taking a nap. But once Soda looked closer, he quickly realized you were doing anything but sleeping

• "Hey there Soda." You slurred with a careless grin, elevating your head the best you could to keep blood from dripping into your eye; the likes of which was already beginning to swell an angry red color

• It was clear to Soda what had happened. Everyone in the gang had been jumped once or twice, the more minor ones resulting in a fist fight or two while the bigger fights ended up with scars like Johnny had, and he could tell this was one of the latter

• "Good glory."

• Soda immediately dropped everything to take care of you. Or, when you wouldn't let him fuss over you, insisting you were fine (you were not), he goes out of his way to keep an eye on you. The only times he leaves your side on the couch is to bring you some rubbing alcohol and a bandage for the open wounds

• Turns into such a mother hen. Even after getting a closer look at your injuries, which turned out to be less troubling than he had expected, he still refuses to leave you alone

• "What were you doing walking in that part of town?" He throws his hands in the air as you finally explained where you'd gotten jumped. "You know we ain't liked much there, man."

• You grunted with a mix of pain and annoyance as you sat yourself up more. "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly expecting to get jumped in broad daylight on a public street now, was I?"

• He supposes that's a fair point, but won't admit it. Especially not while your skin is turning various shades of the rainbow

• After that day he always makes sure to remind you not to walk anywhere soc's are known to hang. It even goes as far as him suggesting he could draw you a map, to which you respond by reminding him that you'd lived here just as long as he had and could walk by yourself thank you very much

• "At least make sure you carry a blade or something, yeah?" He practically begs you, all the while staring at the small scar that swiped across the beginning of your hairline. A memory of when you had been stupid enough to get into a fight you knew you wouldn't win

• "Yeah yeah whatever Soda." You puff, promising him that if anything like that ever happens again you won't hesitate to call him or one of the other guys

• He might be a bit overbearing, but by god does Soda love you, so don't you go getting beat up on now

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

• This was before he had gotten tag teamed on the way back from the movies, so frankly, when Ponyboy finds you leaning against a brick wall downtown with your head all but limp against it, he thinks he's found a dead body

• Pony is just about to nervously pass it when he notices your shoes—the exact same type he'd seen you wearing the last time you'd met up with him

• Has no idea what to do at first. He'd never seen anyone other than Johnny look like this after getting jumped, and the other boy had been crying. You were just laying there. He supposed that if he had been you, he would have been hollering for his brothers by now

• Doesn't freak out. That's not in his nature. Instead, Pony kind of just stares at you for a moment before walking over and shaking you. Perhaps with a bit more force than nessicary

• Despite his gift with words, Pony couldn't describe the relief that washed over him when he opened his eyes even if he wanted to

• "What happened?" He says your name with an underlying quiver to it, eyes darting around your shoulders as he looks at bruises and cuts. Nothing serious he hopes, but it's hard to tell in the moonlight. If he squints his eyes hard enough, he thinks he sees purple marks in the shape of fingers around your neck

• Sure enough, when you speak your voice is a little wheezey

• "What does it look like?" You cough, throwing your head back against the wall with enough effort that Pony hears a crack. "Owch. Forgot that was there."

• He isn't sure if your asking him about your face, or talking about the brick wall. Either way he wouldn't know what to say, so he just responds by standing up and bringing you with him

• Ponyboy feels about as young as he looks when the two of you first start walking down the dimly lit streets, but by the time he's close enough to see the lights of his house, he swears to himself that his muscles would've given out if the walk had been another block longer

• His brothers, and whoever else happens to be over at the house at the time, mostly take over once he manages to pry the screen door open with his free hand and toss you inside. Pony stands by as they make sure you'll be okay, occasionally making use of his hands by bringing you water or disinfectant

• He tries to skip school the next day to stay home with you and make sure you sleep alright, but is sent off anyways when Darry vetos that idea before he could even fully suggest it

• He's real eager to get home all through the school day, and is glad when he walks in on you sitting in his kitchen that afternoon, rubbing at the spots on your neck as you eat a meal Darry managed to scrounge up for you

• Let's just say Pony is always the first to ask you to be safe when you go out alone after that

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

• If this is Johnny before he himself gets jumped, then you're getting a very concerned friend questioning you in a soft voice as he tries not to look at your injuries too much. He knows that he hates it when people stare at him after his dad hits him, so he attempts to offer you the curtosy he never got

• Post beaten Johnny though? He's a nervous wreck

• It's even worse if he finds you before you find him. His first thought is that the people that did this to you might still be around, and he's ashamed of himself for wanting to run away. Later when he confesses that train of thought to you, you reassure him he's fine and that anyone would have done the same thing, but he still gets an icky feeling in his gut anytime he thinks about it

• Assuming that you manage to stumble upon him first though, Johnny knows what to do and how to do it. It's almost sad that he knows the exact way to deal with a situation with this, but seeing as it happened to him not too long ago, it's not exactly a surprise

• He can't stop himself for looking for signs of ring indents on your face as he wipes blood off your face with shakey hands. His gaze is so intense that even through the pounding in your head you can tell what Johnny's thinking

• "It wasn't the same guys." You croak out. Johnny is momentarily startled at your words and turns as if to move away before hesitantly returning to the task at hand

• "Oh." His voice cracks. "Good."

• After making sure you're no longer bleeding, or at the very least hurting with every breath you take, he calls Ponyboy up first thing. It's the only other person he immediately thought of in the moment, and can't remember a time that he was more greatful then when Pony shows up to help him

• The two boys eventually tell everyone else, but that night Johnny relived every bad moment he's ever experienced all in one, and doesn't know that he'd have been able to deal with that if Pony or you hadn't been there; even if you were beaten black and blue

• Sometime later Johnny realizes that he'd been jumping at little things less and less, and a small part of him wonders if going through that with you that one night helped him to overcome some of his own fears. Even if by a little bit

• The thought it is comforting

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬

• Red light filtered through the bar windows as you stumbled up rickety steps to knock on an equally as rickety door

• Your teeth chattered in the night despite it being in the middle of summer, mustering the most genuine smile you could as the entrance eventually opened

• "Dallas here?" You asked the man in the door with a poorly disguised groan

• Whatever would have happened next was promptly cut short at you felt your throat tighten. With a lurch in both your stoumach and your body, you leaned forward to vomit straight on Buck Merril's boots

• "Urgh. Oops."

• Buck didn't even bother to growl at you or go look for Dallas before snatching you inside. If it had been a busier night, or if he had liked those boots more, he might have done either of those things. Or just straight up left you to sit on that doorstep until morning

• But Buck knew just by looking at you that you were in no condition to be left alone, and that Dallas would kill him if one of his friends died on his doorstep

• The bartender forwent knocking on Dallas' door before busting it open. He only had time to hope that his friend wasn't hooking up with anyone before stomping in, your dazed figure trailing behind him

• Thankfully it was just Dallas in the room. Just a pissed, shirtless looking Dallas. The way he shot up from in his bed made Buck think he had been trying to get some sleep and failing

• "They showed up looking for you. Let me know if you need to phone the hospital." He mummbled before slamming the door on the way out. Dallas barely had time to ask what in the fuck he was talking about before you planted face first on the foot of his bed

• Later he would be annoyed that you got bloodstains all over his sheets, but in the moment he was more focused on your ripped clothes and skin littered with flecks of glass and gravel

• "Got any bandaids Dally?" You ask with a dry tone, the joke falling flat at he threw the covers off of himself. Part of them landed on your head over at the other end of the bed, and he rushed to move then away

• "Shit— uh, hold on." Was all he could manage. You took it upon yourself to cautiously crawl up against the wall, mindful of the way your body screamed at you to stop as you did so

• Dallas finished russeling through one of his dresser drawers— the very same one that he would later go through to give Ponyboy and Johnny his gun after their late night misshap —coming back to you with a sunbleached cloth in hand and some pills

• "Hold that wherever its bleeding the most." He said gruffly. "And take these."

• "What are they?" You swallowed them without waiting for his answer

• "Hangover pills. The only sort of medicine Buck has here that isn't white and powdery." Dally leaned far back from you for a moment to scan your available skin, eyes lingering on the way you winced everytime your stoumach moved in the slightest

• "Got me there the worst." You noticed his looks and chose to talk through your urge to hurl again. "Still feels like the winds been kicked out of me."

• "Soc's?" Is all he asks

• You shake your head. "No. Some other greasers. Picked a fight with them last week. I won and forgot all about it. Didn't realize that they were that ticked off about it."

• Dallas resisted the urge to scoff at you, and it must have shown on his face; if the way you laughed said anything

• "Glory Dallas Winston, can you judge me later when I'm not bleeding all across your buddies floor?"

• "Sure sure." He waved, eyebrows furrowing

• He finds himself wishing later that you had gone to Darry or even Steve for help with this stuff. He isn't the best at dressing wounds, even if he's had lots of practice on himself, and knows better than most that his bedside manner isn't exactly the best. When you're not wincing or dry heaving in a bout of pain, the two of you are bickering

• "Anymore tighter, and my fingers will be likely to fall off, Dal." You gripe at him as he wraps a bandage around your knuckles with an air of carelessness, even if he was feeling anything but that

• "Shut up."

• For the love of everything good don't ever do this to him again. Dallas has no idea how to be soft with people, and he isn't sure offering you a cigarette right after disinfecting your wounds is the best way to go about it

• You accept the unusual gift anyways, shaking your head with a smile as you do so

[ambrozjas]

Could you do a songfic with the song 'Mary' by Alex G with Dallas?

I love your writing sm it genuinely makes me happy <3 take your time with this request and have a lovely day !!

mary is the girl that leaves you to rot ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

i cried makjng this n im so proud of it n i love alex g sm

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

major character death, grieving reader, weird descriptions of adrenaline because i’m obsessed with it, song lyrics r in italics !! 💕

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

2276 words, 12170 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

mary is the girl that i wanna kiss

she’s got big red eyes and big red lips

she’s got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

dallas winston was known as a lot of things. he was a hood, a filthy greaser, a pervert, an idiot. and while you had heard all of these things about him, you had never actually spoken a word to him besides a gruff, “watch where you’re going” when you bumped into him.

you took notice of the hollowness in his dark eyes, the way his hair was always tussled, the way a new purple bruise was always blooming on his cheek, the milky skin that shone through the small slit of his shirt lifting when he stretched, the fullness of his pink lips whenever a cigarette was sticking out between them, how soft they looked..

no, you told yourself. dallas winston was a no good hoodlum who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. that’s all he was, and that’s all he’ll ever be. but how wrong you’d come to be in the future.

mary is the girl that i wanna fuck

she’s got leather heart and leather gloves

over the next few weeks, your mind couldn’t help but wander about dallas. you practically analyzed every part of his being. the way his eyebrows furrowed when he struggled to light the cancer stick meticulously placed between his index and middle finger, his leather jacket creasing at the forearms in the process.

but of course, your thoughts had to be interrupted. whether that was for the better or worse, you couldn’t decide.

“hey! what’cha lookin’ at?” your friend slides up next to you on the bench, slipping out of the sun’s reach and under the tiny umbrella shielding you two as she followed your gaze. you both were at a small diner, eating outside despite the tulsa heat causing your thighs to sweat when you sat down. you didn’t mind the heat, maybe that’s why you started playing with fire by talking to dallas winston.

you muttered a quick, “nothin’” when you saw your friend roll her eyes and groan at the fact that you were watching him, dallas. you snatched the juice box that she held out to you while she continued to watch dallas with two younger kids chase a group of small kids around, shouting about in an attempt to scare them.

“i still don’t get it. yeah, he’s a bit cute but i don’t understand why you’d go for a guy like that—“

“i’m not going for anybody. ‘s it a crime to observe the locals?”

“bit creepy but,” she paused as she tsked, “not a crime.” she sighed, sipping on her own juice box once more.

she’s the only girl that i wanna love

when you had finally mustered up the courage to talk to ‘the big bad wolf’ himself, you got through the brief scoffing-at-your-attempts-at-conversation stage and actually realized that dallas isn’t all that bad. maybe he’s wore you down, maybe it’s just habit at this point, but he’s actually tolerable when he’s not around all these dumb broads who are looking for a quick bang.

it took a while. like, a long while. but dallas didn’t mind you anymore. you were no longer the pest that buzzed around his ears in hopes that you weren’t swatted away. dallas claimed he didn’t have friends, need friends. but you’re one of the closest people that would ever get a chance to see dallas the way he truly is. you had met the curtis brothers, already recognizing sodapop from school before he dropped out. you had met two-bit, an obnoxiously flirty drunk who threw teasing remarks at you and dally at night long. you had met steve, although all he did was sneer at you when you got close to him, similar to a dog with a piece of beef in its mouth.

when dallas had finally asked you out, it was curt. grumbling a small offer in an attempt to sound tougher so he would mask his awkwardness if you said no. but if you’re being honest, you couldn’t imagine being with any other boy besides dallas winston. he plagued your mind, planted like weeds that you couldn’t get rid of. whether that were his intentions all along were unknown, although you wouldn’t put it past him. dallas was an interesting guy, for sure.

listen to me baby, i don’t mind

i wanna be with you and waste my time

“y’know, you don’t have to be here right?” you asked him, watching as he blowed another cloud of smoke through the small gap his mouth provided on the other side of his cigarette occupied lips.

he merely glanced at you, his arm behind his head as he lounged about on your bed, weight crinkling the sheets.

“because if—“

“can you relax? i wanna be here, otherwise i’d get up and leave right now.” he plucked the cigarette from his mouth as he fully turned his head to look at you.

you shrugged, “i wonder what’d make me ask when you’ve said ‘i’m wasting my time’ and ‘how long are you stretching this out’ and—“

“alright, alright. i get it.”

you sat in silence for a bit, feeling a bit awkward at the fact that you pulled his card and had said nothing more. you were convinced dallas would leave once he had sat up, dusting some ash off of his dark shirt.

“how long ‘til you finish that thing?” he pointed to the paper on your desk below you, leaning his elbows against his thighs as he got comfortable in the new position.

“why? you need t’much attention?” you cooed at him teasingly, still keeping your eyes glued to the paper.

“feels like you’ve been workin’ on it forever. i don’t wanna spend my time in silence while my girlfriend is just working on her homework.”

girlfriend, you repeated in your head. he’s been getting pretty ballsy with this label thing, huh? you smiled to yourself, writing one last sentence before putting your pencil down and getting up from your desk. dallas’ eyes trailed your figure as you stood between his legs, his hands instinctively resting on your hips.

you would almost call it domestic, the way his brown eyes gazed at you. the brown eyes that were so full of disdain and resentment for the world, somehow had room for adoration whenever he looked at you. you always admired that about him.

you placed your hand on his face, before giving him his wishes and unceremoniously plopping on top of him. you couldn’t deny him, dallas winston always got what he wanted.

give it to me baby, i feel good

i wanna feel whatever you think i should

sing it for me, baby, play my song

i wanna hear your daddy sing along

“i dunno.” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“what do you mean you don’t know?” you put your hand on your hip and looked down at dally, a cancer stick shoved between his lips as usual.

“i don’t dance, ‘specially not with losers like you.”

“hey!”

it was the perfect moment, you were at a family party with dally. you two decided to go to a small clearing behind the house, the smell of trees wafting in the air. it was distant enough that nobody would see you but it was close enough that you could still hear the music faintly blasting through the speakers.

“c’mon dal, nobody can see us. just you ‘n me.” you held out your hand, tilting your head as you offered for a final time.

he stared at it for a second, eyes flickering between your face and your hand as he cocked an eyebrow similarly to two-bit’s habit.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “fine, guess i’ll just go find another guy to dance with. i’m sure andy would love—“

and then came dally’s hands on your hips pulling you back towards him when you tried to saunter away back to the front of the house. you yelped as he tugged you towards him, getting up from the small white garden chair.

you laughed and threw your head back as dallas tried to twirl you, he was almost comically stiff as he did a small two-step shuffle with you in his arms.

“wow, so romantic.”

“shut up.”

you leaned forward and rested your chin on his shoulder, relaxing in his embrace as the music changed to a much slower song. you assumed the adults were slow-dancing with each other, too. you found it funny how when you were little, you would gag at anybody else doing these actions and now, you just realize how in love they were with each other.

you mumbled the lyrics a bit as you swayed in dally’s arms, resting your eyes as his hands came to sit on your waist.

dallas relaxed a bit, too. he listened to your sweet voice as you lowly whispered the lyrics from off the top of your head, mumbling incoherent phrases at lyrics you didn’t know.

if you had told anybody else about this, about how you had practically domesticated dallas winston, about how he was no longer the big bad wolf of tulsa but instead of a common dog who rested his head in your lap, they’d never believe you. they could never believe that he could be anything else besides a greaser, that’s all that mattered in this town. you cherished these moments, oblivious to the futures ahead of you and dallas.

mary is the one who leaves you to rot

she says, ‘i am real and you are not’

that phone call from dallas still haunts you. his voice was breathy, you heard him groan at the slightest shift of movement, he sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“what did you do, dal?” you remember the way you clutched the landline, your palms had already been sweaty. one second you were hunched over a desk stressing about math homework, and the next you were pressed up against the wall as you frantically tried to get dally’s location.

you remember the way he had whispered your name over the phone. his voice cracked as he repeated it. for a while, it was ‘doll’ this and ‘baby’ that, he rarely called you by your name anymore.

“please, just tell me where you’re at dallas.” your voice was barely a whisper at that point, you were surprised at how the phone picked it up. you pressed your forehead against the wall as you begged him not to go once he told you his goodbyes. you remember how before he slammed down the phone, he let out a small cry.

“i love you.”

and then came the familiar dial tone.

you remembered feeling a pang in your heart, it was like your vision went blurry. your throat was practically coated with barbed wire as you fought back a sob, biting your fist to avoid a cry from escaping your lips, an old habit you had learned from dallas whenever he tried to hide from you.

it was nothing like the movies, where a dramatic string quartet would play in the background as you ran in slow-motion out the door. your mind couldn’t think, your thoughts couldn’t focus. your thighs started shaking as you ran out of the door, not even bothering to put shoes on.

the cool air hit your legs, creating a pebbles effect against your skin as the goosebumps raised. your legs didn’t stop, you ran until you couldn’t anymore as you followed the noise and the array of police cars that made a bee-line down the street to the old convenience store.

you remembered the burn in your nostrils and at the back of your throat, the cool air hitting both your bare shoulders and sinuses. that didn’t stop you, though. all you could think about was dally.

you remembered how your eyes couldn’t even focus on what was in front of you. all you saw was dallas, and in his hand was a gun, in replacement of his normal cigarette.

she says, ‘i am real and you are not’

you couldn’t eat after that. who could eat so casually after watching their boyfriend be gunned down right in front of them?

it’s all a blur now, your adrenaline blocking out most of the details. all you remember was crying, as shouts came from the gang, yelling about how dally was just a kid. those screams still haunt you to this day. even now, you can’t look at a pack of kools without thinking of dallas.

you understand why he did it for johnny. johnny was the closest thing dally had to a family. if he was alive now, you’d smack the shit out of him though. you weren’t selfish, nor were you a mean person, but you couldn’t forgive dallas for doing this to you.

as you laid in bed the night of his death, you remembered how dally had made promises that were soon proven to be empty about escaping this small town, to a place with no worries. you realized now how stupid it sounded, but that didn’t matter to you because you had dally. had. and now what you had was gone, lost with the solemn memories of resting against the silk pillows and whispering small words that no other person would ever get to hear, for those words would never leave that bedroom, and those words would never leave your mind either.

you know it now, that dallas was trying to just plant himself in your mind. in his own sick way, he wanted a piece of him to be left with you. and you couldn’t deny him, dallas winston always got what he wanted.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the outsiders did NOT have to go that hard with that “whatever dally wants dally got” quote

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[zvdvdlvr]

Hii!!

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

Xx Rose

being soda's twin and dating dally HC's

-> navi. | -> outsiders masterlist

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

-> reader's pronouns: she/her

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

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

{💖}

JSKSJWIDJ

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

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

9no its too risky

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

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

dally sat through it all while soda watched him intently

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

it was like

humorously atrocious

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

I DISRESPECTFULLY RESPECTFULLY BELIEVE

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

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

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

like,

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

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

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

but then

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

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

MOVING ON

shotgunning. with dallas.

MEOWMEOWPURRAWOOOOGAAA

thats when you really hash out some feelz

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

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

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

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

"dally?"

"yeah?"

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

this makes dally a lil worried "what?"

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

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

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

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

he isnt too comfortable with the way anyone expresses emotions tbh

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

"whatchu mean, doll?"

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

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

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

he didnt know any of you felt like that

wow okay

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

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

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

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

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

where can i get one?

back to sussy soda

he's happy for you. he really is

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

soda's pretty protective idgaf

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

something changed when you and dally started dating

if (IF) dally proposed

it'd be casual

like im talking

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

"marry me doll?"

YESS MA'AM

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

but you smother him in kisses to prove otherwise

i cant

i

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

specially tired!hammered!clingy!dally

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

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

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

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

#couplegoals

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

soda would point and laugh

pony would just shake his head with a knowing smile

once again:

where can i get one???

[wiidvw]

Tell Me You Don't Never Wanna Lose Me.

𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆!!

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝐷𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑥 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 ! 𝐹𝑒𝑚 ! 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚. 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐷𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒.

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡. 𝐶ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡—𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑃 𝑖𝑛 𝑉 𝑠𝑒𝑥. 𝑆𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑—𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒; 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 never tell him because you knew he wouldn't say it back. You weren't mad at him for it. The idea of being in a real relationship was unfamiliar to him, and you were giving him as much space as you thought was needed—even though he begged for your attention whenever you and him were together in private. When you and him were together in public, however, he wouldn't even hold your hand—you hated it, obviously. You always asked him about it, which eventually turns into an argument.

Then, you two are just screaming at each other.

Bored, you decided to go to Buck's and talk to Dallas. It was a Friday, and unsurprisingly, the place was bustling with people—you almost didn't see Buck, but you did and waved at him.

You walked up stairs, stopping when you approached Dallas's door. The light from the room was shining through the crack underneath the door. You assumed he was awake and wrapped your left hand around the door knob, knocking with the other. “Dallas?”

As you stepped into the messy room, you felt your heart sink, your eyes stuck on Dallas who had another woman straddling him while she kissed him, his hand underneath her shirt.

You kicked yourself mentally as you stood there, not doing anything. When Dallas finally looked up, you didn't give him time to say anything, and instead, you slammed the door shut and nearly ran down the stairs. You exited the bar quickly, ignoring Dallas's pleas while he followed you. Surrounded by the darkness of the night, you kept walking without a destination—just a want to escape the fucked up situation you were in.

Somehow, Dallas caught up to you, grabbing your arm. “Doll, stop—”

“Don't fucking touch me!” You yanked your arm away, turning to face Dallas. Your voice shook, eyes burning with tears that blurred your vision. “We're done.”

You continued walking, and Dallas joined you, staying at your side. “What do you mean ‘we're done’?” He questioned you.

“You know what I fucking mean, Dallas. We're over. I don't want to ever see you again.”

“Come on, doll, you don't mean that—”

“You treat me like shit! You're always with other girls—probably fucking them—”

“Who told you that?”

“Oh, so it's true?”

“No—”

“That's not what I hear from those girls, Dallas. I gave you chance after chance—an excuse after fucking excuse—and you still fucked it up.”

“Doll, please, where are you going?”

“Away from you. Stop fucking following me!”

𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 Dallas. You saw glimpses of him at the Curtis house—you tried to ignore him though. You knew everybody else could tell something was up. Anytime Dallas did show up, you said you had to go home. You assumed they already knew because Dallas told them or something.

However, you couldn't stop thinking about him, thinking about his smell, the way he held you, the way he kissed you . . . . You were still pissed. He was cheating, and you saw it with your own eyes, and he was begging you not to leave him.

What an asshole.

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖 forced you out of your unconscious state, and with a groan, you pushed your body off the mattress and to the floor, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand while you stepped to your window. You shoved the curtains open, the glow of the bright moon lighting your dark room; your eyes slowly adjusted, and you realized the cause of the tapping.

It was Dallas. What a fucking surprise. You scoffed and opened the window, a cool breeze, blowing into the room. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you, doll,” he answered, and you rolled your eyes.

“Goodbye,” you started to close the window when Dallas said, “I'm sorry,” his voice a softness you'd never heard.

You freeze, shocked. You never heard Dallas say he's sorry. You assumed he was incapable of it. Maybe he really did feel bad.

Your face softened. “Okay.” You let him through the window, closing it behind him. The moonlight shined on his face, revealing the bruise under his eye. “What happened?”

He sat down on your bed. “Got into a fight.”

“Oh,” you were speechless. You'd never seen Dallas this vulnerable. You took a deep breath. “You're sorry?”

“Yeah. I shouldn't have been kissin’ her—shoulda pushed her away.”

“And why didn't you?”

“I don't know what I'm doin’, man. I'm not used to this.”

“That's not an excuse, Dal. You hurt me.”

“I know, man, I know. I'm sorry,” he apologized, looking up at you as you stood in front of him. “I won't do it again. I promise.”

You sat down beside him. “Prove it,” you stared at him. “Show me that you mean it.”

Dallas leaned toward you until your lips were inches apart, his hand reaching your waist. “I don't wanna lose you.” He kissed you softly—the softest he's ever kissed you. Your hands reached for his jacket, trying to take it off of him until he shrugged it off. He broke the kiss, kicking off his shoes while you got comfortable on your bed, propping yourself up on your pillows.

He kissed you again, rougher this time. Your hands rested on his shoulder, his hands grabbing your thighs spreading them wide. His lips moved to your jaw, sucking and nibbling at the skin, making you whimper at the feeling. One of his hands dipped into your now-wet panties, brushing your clit. You bit your lip, muffling the moan that threatened to release from your throat. You could feel him smirking against your skin as a finger teased your entrance.

“Please,” you managed to choke out without being loud. Dallas sucked harshly on your neck, his middle and ring finger entering your cunt. You gasped, nails digging into his skin. He set a steady pace with his fingers, palm brushing your clit with each thrust of his digits.

You let out quiet moans that only urged Dallas on more. He slipped his other hand under your shirt, cupping your breast in his palm, his thumb teased your brown nipple until it peaked. Your back arched against him, and his fingers inside you sped up, making you throw your head back at the waves of euphoria that constantly hit you. Your thighs closed around his forearm, which caused Dallas to pull out his fingers and pry your legs back open. “Open those legs, doll.”

You almost didn't hear, but you did and opened your legs. He plunged his fingers back into your dripping cunt, returning to his fast-paced speed. “Shit,” you moan, your voice reaching a slightly higher pitch.

Chuckling softly, Dallas went back to nipping at your jaw. You bucked up with each thrust of his fingers. He pressed down on your clit with his palm, and you started to squirm. “Dallas,” your stomach tightened as your climax grew close. “Dal, I'm gonna—”

“Come on, doll,” he murmured against your neck.

You gasped, mouth open, letting out a silent scream as you came, your eyes squeezed shut, and your legs shaking. Dallas’ fingers slowed as you calmed; eventually, he pulled them out.

Dallas began to slip his clothes off, dropping them on the floor. He reached between your legs, sliding your underwear off while you took off your shirt, throwing it with Dallas’. He hooked your legs around his waist and rested a hand beside your head, the other guiding his cock into your aching cunt. You gasped as he entered you inch by inch. He now gripped your hip, tightly. He grunted softly, “Fuck,” and you clamped around his dick.

After giving you time to adjust, he gradually pulled out until only his tip was inside you. You bit your lip, muffling a moan that would've likely been loud enough to wake up everybody inside the house. He slowly repeated his action, and you were shocked.

Whenever you had sex with Dallas, it was rough—not that you were complaining. But it was strange. This softness you never received from him. He was truly sorry, and you could tell.

He pulled out, pulling a whine from your lips. He gripped your legs and rested them on his shoulder, bending you in half as he leaned forward, his cock entering you again. The new angle nearly knocked the air out of you, and it didn't take much to guess that he had a cocky smile on his face; however, he didn't, he leaned down, swallowing your moans by kissing your lips. Dallas slid a hand down your stomach until he reached your clit, rubbing rough circles on the bud. You whimper against his lips. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “Doll . . . ?”

“Yes?” You choked out, the steady pace he set, sliding in and out of your cunt bringing you closer and closer.

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

Dallas started fucking into you faster, rougher until you couldn't hold back your orgasm. “Dallas,” you cried.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Cum with me, doll.”

Only a few more thrusts, and you both came, breathless. Dallas pulled out, and you whined from the new emptiness. Your juices mixed with his cum, the liquid dripping down your ass.

He moved to lay down next to you. You rested your cheek on his shoulder while he wrapped his arm around yours. You glanced up at him. “Dallas . . . ?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you mentally crossed your fingers, praying he'd say it back.

“You too, doll.”

[quizzicalwriter]

Riverside

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Abandoned party turned impromptu river plunge, what’s not to love?

Warnings: None, ‘cept for some kissing and slight touching. And possibly some teensy bits of angst, just a bit.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Part two here! (Fair warning there is smut in part two.)

Parties in abandoned warehouses were normal; well as normal as normal could be for a pack of delinquents and whatever friends they could scrounge up to steal some beer and cigarettes from local sellers. There’d be roughly a four-hour window where everyone could enjoy themselves, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and marijuana before the police showed due to some nosy neighbor filing a noise complaint.

You, of course, had been to every party your pack of friends had attended since your initiation into the gang; which had been you following Ponyboy and Johnny around long enough to be considered close friends. Of course, some of the Greasers flirted with you, it was all in good fun, it wasn’t anywhere near as severe as they’d be with passing women or the occasional Soc they’d run into along the streets of Tulsa, but enough for you to shove them away with a grimace whenever they didn’t lay off quick enough.

The only one who didn’t seem to flirt, at least not in the traditional sense, was Dallas. It struck you as odd, given the fact that Dallas was fairly known for his inability to keep his tongue still whenever a woman was about. Maybe it was your friendship with Ponyboy and Johnny? Maybe it was the way Darry and Sodapop both looked over you as if you were their younger sister? Whatever it was, Dallas only spared you the occasional side glance and snicker, his eyes filled with a deep mystique that left you pondering his every move as you lay awake at night.

On one particular night, you found yourself waiting by the front gates encircling an abandoned warehouse, some old shoe factory that Sodapop and Steve had come across on their ventures after work. The two had seemed oddly excited about it and its remote location, it wasn’t often they were right about potential party locations, but this time they were. It seemed as though Sodapop and Steve had gone overboard, inviting damn near every living person in Tulsa.

Everyone bordered on the precipice of overt inebriation or were already slumped against the cold cement of the factory floor. The party was busy enough to leave you feeling claustrophobic, wanting desperately to see those all too familiar dark brown eyes.

“Where is he?” You cursed out to yourself, arms wrapped tightly around your middle as you leaned against the rusted front gates of the factory. Despite the full moon overhead, the roads were still incredibly dark, leaving you squinting out into the night hopeful you’d see Dallas amidst the dark.

“You need glasses.” Came a gruff voice from your side, the suddenness of it causing a scream to erupt from your lips, soon followed by a genuine laugh from none other than Dallas himself. “Scared you?”

You frowned, swatting at his chest in a manner only you seemed to get away with as you huffed out a lungful of air. Sure, you were jumpy, but you didn’t want to be known as a jumpy girl. Not to Dallas, anyway. He’d tease you endlessly for it just as he had when you’d tripped over your own two feet all of three years ago.

“No, I-“ You started, quickly sighing and giving into the embarrassment as Dallas continued to laugh around his cigarette. “You did. I was looking for you, it’s not too often you’re late to a party. I mean, shit, there’s even weed in there.”

You looked him over, noticing the tired haze in his normally lively eyes, the bruise that lingered under the cusp of his jaw. He looked like shit, battered and tired shit. It made you wince as you took in his appearance, lifting a hand to cradle his cheek without realizing it, only to have it quickly swatted away by Dallas who ducked away from your hand as if you had the damn plague.

“What?” He murmured out, brows screwed together in frustration. “Ain’t seen a man busted up? You’ve hung out with us for years, this ain’t nothin’ new.”

He pushed past you then, flicking ash from the end of his cigarette as he made his way through the front gates, only casting a singular glance over his shoulder to ensure you were following. You were, you always would.

“Fuck me for caring.” You grumbled out, shaking your head with a sigh as you jogged a bit to catch up with him.

You could hear him stifle a laugh as you both entered the warehouse, a mess of lights strewn about the walls and older light fixtures. The place looked like a tetanus shot waiting to happen, but it beat the old falling apart school you all near desecrated the last time you partied there. You could still remember the loud sirens of police as you all hauled ass out the windows, shouts from both your friends and police alike.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daydream was Dallas, a small smile toying with his lips as he held out a cup to you. “Drink?” He said simply, nudging your chest with the cup.

“What is it?” You asked with a subtle grimace, lifting the cup to your nose to sniff at it, causing Dallas to laugh again.

“It’s alcohol, who gives a shit what it is?”

You had to agree, all you wanted to do was be buzzed. So you tilted the cup back, welcoming the acrid taste into your mouth like a long-lost friend. It burnt going down, the feeling spreading to your chest, leaving you coughing a fair bit as you met Dallas’s amused gaze.

“That tasted bad.” You laughed out, smiling up at him as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “Really, really bad.”

Dallas shrugged, throwing back his cup with not so much as a slight wince. You’d never understood how he could drink so easily, both he and Two-Bit had gotten into enough drinking contests to last the pair a lifetime, maybe that had something to do with it.

He grabbed your arm then, the touch much gentler than the one he displayed with Johnny or even Ponyboy, always grabbing the boys rough enough to make them cuss out at him or yank their arm away. But with you it was different, his hand trembling somewhat as though he were terrified of accidentally injuring you.

You two walked over to the front doors, the large metal propped up with some nearby cinderblocks Steve had found. The air felt nice, cold, and crisp, it filled your lungs, awakening you from the inside out. Your eyes cast to the side then, taking in Dallas as he looked up toward the stars, a somewhat childlike wonder lingering behind his eyes. It was a look you’d never seen before, always used to the grimace and scowl he wore more often than a smile.

Instead of saying anything you looked to the stars as well, lips parted as you rested your head against the cool metal of the doorway. Chaos and laughter radiated from behind you, nearly deafening, but for some reason your ears only focused on the deep breaths coming from Dallas.

“Sorry I tugged ‘ya over here, kid.” He stated, looking over to you for a moment before looking back to the sky. “I- well, I know you like the stars. Johnny mentioned it to me not too long ago, said you two watched them together.”

You nodded in return, smiling softly at the fact that he’d remembered your love for the stars. It hadn’t been anything romantic, Johnny and you, you’d simply bumped into him. Both of you’d had enough of your parents and decided to go to the nearby park, lying against the picnic tables and watching the night sky.

“Were you watching them on the way here?” You asked, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I mean, you noticed them enough to know it was a clear night and I’d like to see them.”

He nodded, looking over at you for a second before reaching behind himself to grab a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “I noticed. ‘Bout a thirty-minute walk here from Buck’s. Had to entertain myself somehow.”

You waved away the cigarette smoke as he ignited the end with his lighter, never having been one for smoking in the first place. Dallas noticed this, mumbling out an apology as he moved to the other side of you where the wind wasn’t blowing the smoke.

“You don’t seem much in the mood for partying tonight.” You stated, turning to rest your back against the metal doorway. “Do you want to go on a walk?”

He smiled at that, a short yet noticeable smile as he took in another lungful of smoke, exhaling it to the side as he slowly made his way back toward the front gates. You followed, just like you always did.

“Got anywhere in mind?” He asked around his cigarette, brown eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the broken-apart road beneath his feet.

“The river?” You chimed, tone bright as you smiled. “It’s real pretty this time of year, no beer bottles from summer parties. Cold, but pretty.”

He nodded at that, slowing his pace to match yours. It was a small act, but you appreciated it nonetheless given the fact that you were shorter than the rest of the Greasers.

_

The walk there was quiet, the only noise filling the air being the crunch of broken-apart asphalt underneath your shoes and the sharp inhale Dallas would take off of his cigarette. The bruise along his jaw still bothered you, causing you to steal a glance over at it every few seconds. It looked like it hurt, but you knew Dallas well enough to know that he’d hate for you to start babying him - even if he needed it.

As the sounds of the part grew quieter, the gentle hum of the nearby riverbank grew louder. It wasn’t often you found yourself here without Ponyboy or Johnny, you three practically lived there in the summer. But it felt nice being there with Dallas, his hand wordlessly extended out to you to help you step over bare roots as you two walked down to the shoreline.

There was a shared silence between you two as you gazed out at the river, the moon overhead casting a beautiful glow down below. After a moment you turned your head to the side, a slight frown evident on your face as you looked at Dallas.

“Got that on another run for Buck?”

The question made him jump, not having expected you to speak up so suddenly. He looked down at the pebbles lining the shore, moving a few around with the heel of his shoe as he flicked off ash from the end of his cigarette.

“Can’t say I didn’t deserve it.” He grumbled out, the words causing you to huff out in annoyance. It was too common for Dallas to say something so self-deprecating in a sarcastic manner.

“You don’t.” You remarked, tone snappier than you intended for it to be. “Sorry, I just- shit, Dallas. We care about you, we all do. I know we don’t talk about things like this, but that doesn’t mean we don’t notice. You know how often I have to calm Ponyboy or Johnny down when you come back covered in bruises and cuts?”

The thought of Ponyboy and or Johnny worrying over him made him visibly tense, hand fumbling with the denim of his jeans as he continued to smoke from his cigarette. “I can handle myself.” He responded, brown eyes flickering over to you, a silent warning hidden in their depths.

“Can you?” You replied, tone wavering as you turned to face him. “I worry about you, Dallas. You aren’t invincible, shit! I’d have thought you’d know that after what happened with that church fire.”

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, worried that Dallas would simply turn on his heel and make back for the party, probably get drunk and wobble his way back to Buck’s only to not speak to you again until his anger had subsided. But he didn’t, he stayed, his head turned toward you as smoke rolled from his lips.

“Never seen you so worried.” He laughed out, the noise gentle enough to be barely audible. “You do this often? The whole worrying bit?”

You moved toward him then, close enough to smell his rich cologne paired with the menthol cigarettes he was damn near addicted to. Your hands found their way to his chest, gaze turned toward the fabric of his jacket as you took in a shuddering breath.

“I know you joke ‘cause you don’t want to talk about serious stuff, but I care, Dal. I care a lot, I get worried sick that you’ll disappear one day, only for me to find your name in the paper in a damn obituary.” Your words become hushed as you took in a shaken breath, your eyes closing momentarily as you tried to think straight. “Buck has you doing these things ‘cause he knows you will, nobody else is as reckless - careless when it comes to their life like you are.”

The words were harsh, but he needed to hear them. If none of the others would tell him, you would, at least you could live with yourself if God forbid something did happen to him. You felt him take in a deep breath, not moving your hands from his chest as he looked down at you.

“Don’t want to talk about Buck right now, kid.” He murmured around his cigarette, his eyes focused on your face as he exhaled smoke to the side. “Came here to have some time with you, not to talk about my life. Not that I don’t like your voice, but- I don’t want that right now.”

You sighed then, nodding as you backed away. From his tone of voice, you could tell that he appreciated your vulnerability, something Greasers didn’t show to each other often. It was a rarity, a welcome one at that, even with Dallas who didn’t so much as talk to himself whenever he found himself alone.

“Want to swim to take your mind off of all this?” You asked, although as soon as the words left your mouth Dallas looked over to you as though you were possessed - an idiot possessed at that.

“The fuck? No, it’s March. Do you want to freeze to death?” He replied around his cigarette, shaking his head in discontent as he looked back to the river. As soon as his gaze moved back to the river you moved from where you stood, lifting your shirt up and over your head before letting it fall to the soft earth beneath you.

“What- hey! No!” Dallas clamored out, quickly moving to snub out his cigarette on a nearby rock in hopes of catching you in time before you did something stupid. Unfortunately for him, you’d always been the quicker of the gang, something he found himself pissed at as you threw your jeans at his chest, sprinting into the water as if you were on fire.

In truth, the water was frigid, far colder than you could’ve ever expected it to be. Each step you took into deeper water caused your breath to lock in your chest, your teeth chattering together in a manner so violent you were worried you’d chip a tooth. But you kept going, ignoring Dallas’s shouts from the shoreline as you waded deeper and deeper.

With an indignant grin, you turned to face him, extending your arms out to your side only to fall backward to let yourself sink fully underwater. Just as your head sunk beneath the murky depths you heard a cursed out shout from the shore, making you laugh internally as you pushed your feet down against the riverbed, moving to stand upright only moments later.

You arose with a gasp, the noise completely involuntary at the cold night air and the frigid water combined, your normally rosy lips a slight blue hue. You ignored the temperature, wading through the water back toward the shore as Dallas stress-threaded his fingers through his hair, brow furrowed in a manner you’d only seen directed at Ponyboy or Johnny - until now that is.

“You stupid?” He called out, grimace clear on his face as he moved into the water himself. “Stupid.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from your chest as you neared him, finally making it to waist-deep water. You’d failed to notice that your white underclothes had gone all but transparent, a fact not lost on Dallas in the slightest. His lips parted as his eyes drifted over your form as you moved toward him through the water, droplets cascading down your form.

“Had to show you I wouldn’t die.” You replied, tone sarcastic as you moved to stand in front of him. “I ain’t dead, see? We don’t have gators in Oklahoma, Dallas.”

Another laugh passed your lips as you met his gaze, or more so looked toward his eyes only to notice them glued to your body. You decided to act boldly then, grabbing one of his hands before placing it against your chest, just above your breasts. You were sure he could feel the steady thump of your heartbeat through your chest, his gaze finally lifting to meet your own.

“See? I’m not so cold.” You whispered, ignoring the faint shiver spreading through your veins.

“You’re freezing.” He retorted, doing nothing to remove his hand from your chest. “Your heart is racing.”

There was a pregnant pause between you two, your lips parted as you begged your mind to conjure anything for you to say - anything to not lengthen the silence, but you couldn’t. Dallas’s hand moved then, thumb brushing against your clavicle as his eyes wandered down your neck.

“Dallas-“ You whispered, only to be cut off by his hand moving to cup your jaw, his lips finding yours a second after. He was warm, incredibly warm. The taste of his lips combined with the comfort he brought made you sigh into the kiss, back arching as you leaned into his touch.

You’d kissed before, hell, every Greaser had. But this felt different, intimate on a scale you’d never experienced before. It left you breathless as his lips parted against your own, tongue seeking yours as his head tilted to the side. You eagerly accepted it, welcoming the taste of menthol cigarettes and bitter alcohol as if it were honeysuckles on a warm summer day.

While his right hand stayed against your jaw, his thumb pressing against the pulse point on your throat, his left hand smoothed down your side to grab at your hip. His warmth spread with his touch, goosebumps arising along your chilled flesh wherever his hands went. However wet you were getting Dallas’s shirt by pressing yourself into him didn’t seem to bother him, the two of you only parting when he finally decided to breathe instead of tasting you.

“Still stupid.” He mumbled, taking a moment to wet his lips as he looked down at you, seemingly savoring the taste of you on his lips. “If it weren’t so damn cold I’d have gone after you.”

You nodded at his words, laughing quietly as he smiled as well, thumb brushing away a few stray droplets of water from your face. “Never said I was smart.” You whispered sarcastically.

“You are.” He replied, not so much as waiting a beat to speak. “You’re right, y’know, about Buck. Can’t promise you I won’t be doing runs for him, guys gotta make a living somehow.”

As if sensing your impending words, he placed a finger over your lips. “But- I’ll be safer, alright? That satisfy you?” You nodded, smiling against his finger before he pulled his hand away, smiling down at you himself.

“Good, let’s get your damn clothes.”

You moved from the water after Dallas, following him toward the shore where your discarded clothing laid abandoned. As he dusted off your shirt and jeans you removed your bra and underwear, knowing if you wore both you’d soak through your clothes and look foolish. Dallas didn’t bother looking away, he was still Dallas after all. His eyes raked over your nude form with a smirk, although he didn’t reach out to touch you, instead giving you his shoulder to lean against as you dusted your feet off before pulling your jeans on.

“Surprised you didn’t grab at me.” You chuckled softly, pulling your shirt over your head before moving to wring your hair free of water as best as you could.

“Grab at you? Nah, I’ll save that for later.” He responded, his New York accent ever-present in his words. “Don’t like touchin’ until you’re begging for it, y’know?”

All you could do was laugh at his words, shooting him a glance as you shook your head, but you’d be lying if you said the words didn’t send a wave of arousal through your veins. It was bold, bold in a way only Dallas could pull off. As soon as you were dressed he freed the last few strands of hair still stuck under the collar of your shirt, placing a short kiss on the back of your neck as he did.

“C’mon, let’s head back to mine, got better things to dry you off with.” He murmured out against your skin, only pulling away to wrap his arm around your back, pulling you close to him as you both began making your trek to Buck’s.

Dallas could feel you shiver beneath his touch, but instead of ridiculing you for jumping into the river he simply removed his jacket, wrapping the warm leather around you as you two continued your walk.

After a while he’d give you his necklace, mumbling something along the lines of how it’d look better on you anyway. Who better to wear a pendant for Saint Christopher than a woman who willingly ran into freezing water? Beneath it all he wanted everyone to know you were his, but he’d save that talk for later too.

AN: My first ever writing shared on Tumblr! Hope you all like it, I’m all up for requests! I’m also heavy in TLOU 2 fandom sooo… if y’all want some Abby or Ellie writing let a girl know! I’m also working on uploading my work to my ao3 account: Unscriptural. Catch me there too if you want to! Anyway, I love Matt Dillon and all of his characters - peace!!

[positively-peachy-143]

Guys I know it's cute and all to have Dallas be this sweet little goose and no hate to anyone who writes him like when he's in love there's nothing wrong with him, but in all honesty that man probably can't have a stable relationship for the life of him. Like you could be the most perfect, forgiving, loving partner and he WILL ruin it. You say you love him for the first time and he would not just go "love you too, Doll" he would physically pull away from you and recoil in fear. Bro is terrified of love and I feel like some of us need to be more realistic with it. Once again no hate I literally obsess over cutesy Dallas fics, I just wish there were more with tangible, realistic conflict with him. A relationship with him would not be safe, easy, or romanitc. It would be scary, gut-wrenching, and insanely difficult.

[some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too]

hii I don’t know if I’m supposed to give ya a prompt like said. But I’ve been feeling angstyyyy sooo if you can no bother my love, could ya do : all of the outsider boys reacting to you (s/o) death?

A/N: Hi anon! the post for the prompts thing is here but i’m taking requests too so dw! I’m feelin the angst rn so this was perfectly timed!

The boys if their S/O d!ed

———————————————————

⚠️ TW for death, implied suicidal thoughts ⚠️

Darry

He would go on living for the most part, not because he doesn’t care about the fact that you’re gone, but he just can’t afford to shut down. if he does, he risks losing Soda and Pony too.

He’d bring flowers to your grave once a week, on Wednesdays (don’t ask why i just decided this). Your favourite flowers. When the first bunch he put down dies, he gets someone he knows, (maybe Ponyboy, i feel like he’d dig arts and crafts) to either press the flowers or dry them so he always has them, even if they bring back painful memories.

To add to the whole getting flowers thing, he’d always take one out of each bunch, just like he did before your death to make sure that he replaces them as soon as they wilt.

He most likely got the call about your passing and had to tell the guys. He tried to stay calm while telling them but he broke down before he could finish.

Ponyboy

This hurts just to think about! He, unlike Darry would shut down completely. He’d be failing class, wouldn’t get out of bed and would hardly eat. If we count it as after Johnny and Dally die, that would be 3 people he cared about that died (other than his parents)

If you two watched the sunset together often i feel like he’d never watch it again. it would be too painful for him.

Whenever he gets into an argument with Darry he runs out of the house and straight to your grave. He’d sit there and vent to you and eventually fall asleep there. the guys probably put a bench by your grave so he’d sleep there.

I think that after he was functional again, he’d get very cold and bitter, kinda like Dally. He’d get into fights all the time and would start acting out. He just doesn’t know how to cope with you gone..

Sodapop

Sodapop would go to your grave everyday after work and just talk to you about his day. he would fill you in on everything going on with the guys, any rumbles or fights with socs, stuff like that.

I honestly think that if Soda was serious about your relationship he would have given you a promise ring. I think that even after you were gone he would keep wearing it and maybe even put yours on a chain and wear that under his t-shirt, right next to his heart.

If it was a violent death? He would completely stop fighting, he would only see it as a constant reminder of what happened to you, he would realise that it really didn’t do any good.

He wouldn’t fully shut down but i think he would stop hanging out with the guys so much and would get very quiet. He wouldn’t be his laughing, wild self anymore. He knows that isn’t what you would’ve wanted but how could he keep on joking when you were gone? how could he ignore it?

Dally

Dally would go on hating and fighting more than he ever did. The world took so much from him and now it took you too? Why should he care about anyone or anything if you weren’t there anymore.

He’d spend a lot of time at your grave. No talking, he’d just sit there and smoke a cigarette. Sometimes he’d silently cry, but he hates crying out in the open.

Dally would blame himself. It doesn’t matter how you passed away, he would look at every detail of the days leading up to your death and see if there was any moment where he could’ve done something to stop it. if it was a violent death, could he have stopped you from getting into that situation in the first place? if it was an accident, could he have stopped it from happening, could he have made it so that it was him instead?

Steve

Steve would be kind of like Dally. He’d hate and fight more than ever. How could the world be so cruel that he’d take you from him?

I feel like it could be his first proper experience with loss, which is different to the others that i’ve written about so far. He really wouldn’t know how to cope. he’d try to go on living, then he would shut down for a while, then he would probably just have to get out of town for a while.

I honestly think he’d do something drastic. Rob a gas station or snap and start a fight with his dad or something. He would get very reckless too. where he would be careful when competing in drag races, now he would speed up if anything.

He is so afraid of forgetting your face. He keeps a picture of you in his jacket pocket to make sure he doesn’t forget but he realises he’s starting to forget the smaller things like how you’d make this particular face when you’re being sarcastic, and how your face would light up when someone mentioned your favourite things.

Two-Bit

Two would start drinking even more, you were lucky to see him sober. He’d stop hanging out with the guys.

He would be angry for a while. Angry that you left him here alone. Of course he knows deep down that it’s not your fault but he can’t help it. Two probably went to your grave one day, drunker than ever. He started giving out that you left him and ended up throwing his bottle of beer at your headstone. That snapped him out of it. He picked everything up and cleaned the headstone best he could.

After the angry phase is gone he would start to write you letters filling you in on everything. He couldn’t bring himself to go to your gave so he just pretended you had moved far away. He puts them in a big box under his bed. He considered burning them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it

He sometimes forgets you’re not there though. Say if he’s doing something he might yell “Y/N could you pass me the ___” then remember you’re not there and just sits down and cries, even a few years after.

Johnny

Johnny really can’t deal with it. With his parents being so bad and you being his main support, he couldn’t take it anymore.

I honestly think that he would run away, let everyone forget him. Sometimes he would consider the ways to see you again, but luckily someone always snaps him out of it.

He hangs out with the guys more than ever, it keeps him from shutting down completely. they become his main support, but he’s even more quiet, he sits a little outside of the group when in the curtis’ house.

After a few months of grieving he remembers a list you guys wrote about all your hopes and dreams. So he decides that he’s going to complete everything on it. He lives for the two of you.

[thewulf]

Don't Cry || Dallas "Dally" Winston

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

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

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.0k +

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m here for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[cranberrv]

dallas winston leaving you and ponyboy behind at the hospital after johnny passes. you trying to go after him, but ponyboy stopping you, saying to let him cool off. dallas winston robbing a store and calling the phone at the curtis house. steve answering the phone and asking if he wants to talk to you, and he says he wants to talk to darry instead, not wanting to worry you. the gang suddenly running out of the house after the mystery phone call, you following. you seeing the silohette of your lover running in front of you, away from you, away from the sirens. tears forming from how overwhelmed you are. dallas winston pulling out his gun and pointing it at the officers. stupid dallas, you think. dallas winston falling to the ground shortly after. you running up to him, darry trying to stop you but not even him can hold you back as you run over to your lover. you hearing his last words go to ponyboy, not to you.

[beautouslysandy]

11."don't make me say it. i can't say the words."

dallas winston x gn!reader

by- sandy

warnings- angst, language (i think), not proofread, time skips, and lowercase intended

word count- 1,098

request- please just maybe do 28 with Two-Bit? or 11 with Dallas?

a/n 💌 - honestly i loves doing this one! so sorry it took so long! and for the person who requested the soc!reader headcannons it’s almost done! sorry for the long wait!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you were with dallas as a couple, the cold and tough greaser that nobody could hold down. this guy has seen the worst of the worst, never was on the receiving end of praises. with you that all ended, he was dumbfounded when it came to you. why would you want an ass like him…he couldn’t help himself to mess it up once and a while. 

you two have been dating for a couple of months so nobody had said those three words…yet. 

you and dallas were at the curtis’ house on the couch, his arm over your shoulder pulling you in. he felt so safe, you knew nothing bad would happen with him protecting you. you never knew what was coming, the thing that would hurt you the most…it came from him. 

“so dally, how’s it been going?” johnny said, you and dallas went to New York for a day or two. best time of your life, for you at least. you hadn’t realize how many bad memories it brought up for dallas. 

he never really talked about his feelings. always had his guard up, even around you. 

“it's been fine.” 

“fine? even in new york?” johnny asked with wide eyes

“yeah.” dallas replied shifting in his seat and twirled a strand of your hair

“how about you y/n?” johnny asked, hoping for a more involved answer

you turned to face the two boys, dallas softly smiled. he always did when he made eye contact with you, he couldn’t help himself.

“new york?” johnny said, getting y/n caught up

“oh. it was amazing! the city lights, the non stop movement and noise!” you said, your eyes sparkling. this made dallas chuckle, he was glad you had a great time. 

“that’s good!” 

later that night as you and dallas were walking home, you stopped at a corner and so did he. 

“dallas?” 

“yeah, doll?”

“why didn’t you have a good time in new york? like did i stop you from having a good time, you should have just-“

he interrupted you with one of his hot and passionate kisses that made you weak in your knees. 

as he pulled away, he was smirking and you had that awe and confusing in his eyes that made him chuckle.

“what was that for?”

“you were rambling.”

“oh…my bad.”

“it’s nothing, doll. i just don’t want you getting all worked up.”

“heh thanks.” 

“so? my question?”

“oh right. it just hard to have a good time there, you know after everything.”

“i don’t know though.”

his eyes widened at this, had he really never told you what went down.

“you never tell me anything about your past, babe.” 

babe. you always call him dal or handsome never babe.

“babe?” 

“huh?”

“no i mean you called me babe?”

“yeah, so?” 

“it’s nothing never mind.”

this makes you laugh. 

•••

the next morning you wake up before dallas, his head was lying on your chest and his arms wrapped around you. you smiled. 

“i love you dallas.” you said, you thought he was asleep but, no he was just pretending to be so you wouldn’t have to get up.

you moved him over and got up to shower. 

he sat straight up as soon as you closed the bathroom door. nobody has ever said that to him. not even his parents, that he can remember.

he was shaking and was taking fast and heavy breaths.

why would you say that too him, you know the small chance that he would be able to say that back to you.

••• 

a week has passed since that happened. dallas has been trying to work up to saying it back to you even though he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

it was late at night, you guys were on the porch. you turned to him, this is it was what he was thinking.

“dallas, i love you.” you said trying to keep it simple so you wouldn’t scare him off. 

he just stood there. he literally can’t form the words to say it back. he knows he feels it, everyday. he says i love you too in his head but he can’t say it too you.

“dallas?”

“thanks.”

“thanks?”

he sees the hurt that spreads your face, this pains his heart.

you sniffle, “that’s all you can say…you haven’t felt anything remotely close to live these past seven months?”

“i-….yes. i mean yes i have felt those feelings”

“okay….then say the words.”

"don't make me say it. i can't say the words." he said taking a deep breath in and out, you were trembling. god this was hurting you more than it was him. shit.

“what do you mean you can’t say the words?”

“i feel them i just-“

you slapped him. 

“your toying with my feelings, dallas winston!”

“i should of listened to everyone!” 

he touched his face, you had slapped him real good. 

“i am being serious, doll. believe me. please.” he knew this was gonna end like every relationship. either you were gonna leave him or make him leave.

he couldn’t lose you. he couldn’t bear not seeing you everyday and knowing that you were no longer his, that he let you slip away.

“i don’t know what to believe.” you said crossing your arms, you weren’t gonna leave him but if he couldn’t say the words you don’t know what you were gonna do.

“i…”

“am i some joke to you? is our relation-“

he interrupted you with that kiss of his that makes you weak in your knees. good play, but it wasn’t gonna work this time.

you pushed him. 

“get off of me, you asshole!” you said and immediately regretting it when you saw his face.

the pain dallas felt when you said that was unbelievably unbearable. he looked at you and saw the angry in your eyes turn to regret.

“i love you so much dallas but the fact that-“

“i love you….i will love you till- forever.” he said smirking, he had said it, he pulled you into a soft and long kiss that was unknown to you but you loved it but not as much as you loved him.

“i am so sorry, i was being an ass.” you said

“you were mad. i forgive you, and i would over and over again if that meant i get to keep holding you in my arms. i love you y/n.”

“i love you more, handsome.”

“there we go…a nickname i am familiar with.”

you laughed as he kissed you on the neck

“and i love you more doll….always.”

[wannaseewhatshangin]

Cry together

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Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem reader

Summary: During a fight, Dallas realizes he cant live without you.

Warning: Angst

(This is pretty short by the way. I'm just not feeling great as you can tell lol. I want this person to read this first (I trust her with my whole life) @the-greasers-angel

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"Dallas, give me my keys!" You screamed as he held them behind his back.

"I can't do that, doll." He said calmly, trying to hide them from you as you tried to grab them.

You were currently trying to leave, Dallas wasn't having it.

You two were having a fight over God knows what, not even being able to remember. You got sick of it and started to walk out until he grabbed the keys, looking into your eyes.

"Doll, come on. Let's just talk about it-" He tried to reason with you, but it was no use.

"I'm tired of talking about it! That's all you tell me and then you do the same shit over and over- just give me my keys." You said, wrapping your arm around him to grab them.

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly as you tried to push him away. You eventually gave up, standing still in his arms.

He kisses your forehead, rubbing your back as you listen to his heartbeat. It was beating fast- of course it was. He almost lost you, the most important person in his life.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I can't remember why we were fighting but I promise- it wont happen again. I love you."

You slowly nod, hugging him as well.

"I love you too, dal."

[bldngiris]

꒰OKLAHOMA SMOKESHOW ꒱ . . . d winston !

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

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

requested : yes or no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but she swears that his love is a damn god send

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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