#dallas winston drabble

[quizzicalwriter]

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

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

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

A/N: Thank you for the request!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[puzziepoppin]

lovelovelovelove thinking about being dallas winston's gf.

cw: mostly just fluffy relationship stuff, mentions of sex; no detail, loosely curtis!reader, not edited and written on a small amount of energy so exscue any grammar mistakes😭

~

-sleeping in at bucks until the sun is shine so brightly through the blinds you can't see anything but the rays hitting his face in such a perfect way spotlighting all of his usually rock hard features that have turned soft while he sleeps.

-dally is a FULL time stomach sleeper though. and when he finally gets some good sleep he sleeps hard. so if you want to cuddle up close to him don't excpect him to spoon with you. he'll hold you while he sleeps on his back once in a while, but the most you can usually get on from that boy is an arm slung around your body.

-and he is NOT a morning person. the second you inch to sit up hes mumbling with his morning groggy voice and thick accent for you to get back in bed. even if you have work or school or just have to pee. DO NOT expect him to let you up.

-he seems like a real hard-ass but i like to think he has his softer side for you but only when your alone. can't let the gang know you've made him gone soft.

-and if your a curtis girl just expect for darry to be even harder on you once he finds out your dating tusla's certified delinquent. it's all outta care for you and love. he doesn't want his family getting separated from him, and knowing how much time dally spends in the cooler has dar just a tad worried that your gonna get caught up in it sometime.

-and we all know dallas winston fucks. so in the beginning darry will definitely be a bit suspicious of dally only using you to get his dick wet. but once he sees a how dally acts around you he starts to soften up a bit. just don't let darry catch you with dally in your bed doing the devils dance. or any clothes removed for that matter.

-on the topic of fucking and touching. dally is big on pda but in his own way. he's not the type to spin you around and pick you up after he gets outta the cooler. but he knows how to be romantic. he's just more of a touchy feely (vampire on the neck) kinda guy. your friends and darry especially will always have a comment on the new hickey that's accumulated on your neck or how it looks like dallys eating your face off anytime you make out. but dal is just passionate with his kisses. passionate and hungry. if he feels the need he can add a bit of gentleness in there just gentle isn't a normal word in dallas winston's vocabulary.

~

a/n: more self indulgence but this time it's with my new fictional bf. no, i haven't finished reading the outsiders so DONT mention any deaths to me. and death is so bleh anyways i like to imagine a world where they all live and johnny never killed the soc and darry never hit dally. anyways maybe some more rated r coming soon babes😘

[vvioletsvoid]

[goldilocks-pony]

Dallas can speak some german because after his father abandoned him and left him to stay with his immigrant grandfather he wasnt good at english so dallas had to learn german to communicate. Each night they often would help eachother study their respective languages, and though he'll never admit it dallas treasured these moments because it felt like he had a decent father figure

[sleeplessgreaser]

could you pleaseee write steamy jally. like maybe a make out session like nothing too intense but a little exciting and heated thank youu

yes, yes i will - thank you for asking me to, i needed motivation to start writing them again lol

Treat Me Like a Fool

pairing: Johnny x Dally word count: 587 warning: slightly nsfw!!

Original gif made by gentle-decades

The radio was playing an Elvis song, because of course it was. The slow opening chords of "Love Me" danced with the sounds of the night - the crickets chirping to each other, the buzzing of late summer cicadas - and the soft rumble of the T-bird's engine. As soon as Dallas put it in park he turned to look at Johnny, who was sitting in the passenger's seat and chewing his nails as he stared out into the dark.

Dally had been glad when Ponyboy said he had homework to do that night. He didn't have a problem with the kid, but Dal and Johnny hadn't had much time alone as of late and he was itching for any kind of physical contact between the two of them.

With one hand still on the steering wheel, he reached over to grab Johnny's thigh, squeezing it gently. When those dark eyes finally turned to look at him he couldn't help but smirk. No matter how many times they touched, Johnny always reacted like it was the first. His eyes were wide and almost fearful, but Dallas knew better; that was how Johnny usually looked. He tugged at Johnny's leg, urging him to turn a bit more towards him before leaning over the center console to kiss him.

He could feel Johnny's body tense when their lips made contact, then slowly easing into it and relaxing as Dallas pushed closer, pulling at the smaller boy's bottom lip and sucking on it gently. One of Johnny's hands found its way up to Dally's shoulder, curling around the collar of his jacket, while the other lightly touched at the hand that had slid between Johnny's thighs to grope at his crotch. When Dallas's tongue forced its way between his lips and licked at the roof of his mouth, Johnny gasped, then whined as the hand between his legs squeezed him carefully. Dally huffed a quiet laugh before releasing his grip and leaning back into his seat, licking his lips.

"C'mere."

Johnny didn't need to be convinced. He pulled himself over the center console, carefully settling in Dallas's lap with a leg on either side of the older boy's hips and his hands coming to rest on Dallas's chest. Dally snaked a hand under the seam of Johnny's tee shirt to grasp his hip, his pinkie finger slipping under the band of his jeans - just barely venturing into restricted territory. His other hand reached up to grasp the smaller boy's chin, delicately pulling him closer and reconnecting their mouths. Johnny moaned into it, humming at the warmth and the way Dally's tongue toyed with his. The curl of Dal's grin was obvious for Johnny to feel, and he couldn't help the way it made him smile too.

Dallas's thumb kneaded at the flesh on the inside of Johnny's hip before dipping further down, trying to burrow beneath the waistband of his jeans. Johnny leaned into the touch, moving to wrap his arms behind Dally's neck and letting his full weight press against him. The pressure under Dal's fingers grew as he worked to hold him there, perched perfectly on his lap, his thumb now digging into the muscle of Johnny's hip.

Dallas hummed, pulling away to nip at Johnny's jawline and trail gentle kisses down his throat. He watched as the younger boy's Adam's apple bobbed in time with panting breaths, and he laughed, resting his forehead on Johnny's shoulder.

"Christ, you're so… you drive me crazy, you know that?"

[drgstrcowboi]

dallas winston in repose

a/n: this is a drabble I wrote from the perspective of a Curtis-sister-type girl who's with Dallas. For backstory purposes, she works at the Admiral drive-in theatre from the original book/movie. And I just assume Dallas lives/stays at Buck's. It's just fluffy and he gets some sleep. Idk that's all I guess, I hope you like it :)

Rainy summer nights in Tulsa were boring but I secretly cherished them. The drive in where I worked always closed when it rained, so I’d get out of my shift and have the night off. Darry never much cared where I was on a rainy night either because he figured I couldn’t get into too much trouble if the streets were wet, I guess. And Buck’s was always slow on rainy nights, too.

So rainy summer nights meant nights where it was just me and Dallas. And I loved it when it was just me and Dallas. He was different without an audience.

This particular rainy summer night, Buck was out of town. So Dally and I settled into the couch in Buck’s makeshift living room and started flipping channels. Eventually he found a movie, some old western, that had just started and we settled on watching that.

Except that I’d much rather watch him instead. Even if he wasn’t doing anything at all, I’d much rather watch him.

As usual, Dallas was clad in only his favorite pair of faded jeans. Barefoot and shirtless, he was draped on the couch like a discarded jacket. The couch was just a little too short to accommodate his whole frame, so his feet hung off the end as he lay with his head again my shoulder.

He smelled like stale cigarettes and cedarwood soap, his favorite. His unkempt hair fell into his eyes, and I brushed it away, silently assigning myself the task of fixing his appearance in the dim lamp light.

As I ran my hands through his locks, I scratched his scalp gently with my fingernails. A kind of intimate touch I knew he wasn’t familiar with but that I hoped he’d appreciate. He shut his eyes in momentary comfort. His chest rising and falling with blissful inhales and relaxed exhales. Dallas rarely relaxed, at least like this, and it felt good to see him so comfortable.

“That feels nice, Doll,” he mumbled in a groggy New York accent. I bent down and kissed the top of his head in reply, prompting a hum of pleasure to escape his lips.

Dallas hadn’t been getting good sleep lately, as if he ever got much sleep at all to begin with. And I could tell he was starting to really doze off as I continued running my hands through his hair. Stroke after careful stroke, I’d get his locks straightened only for him to shift his head slightly in one direction or the other, causing a few of the front pieces to fall in his eyes again.

Even when he was only half-awake, Dallas Winston had a tendency towards restlessness. But I didn’t mind. I would have sat there all night straightening his hair with my fingers, maybe braided a few of his longer locks once he was really asleep. Kind of like how people will stand and stare at a painting in a museum for a long time. Repeatedly taking in what they’ve already seen just because it’s nice to be there.

Dally yawned, shifting his weight, “you’re putting me to sleep, Doll.”

“It’s cause you need sleep, Dal,” I whispered, guiding him as he shifted positions so his head was laying in my lap.

Two blue eyes gazed up at me through his half-closed eyelids. He brushed a hand across my cheek and grinned, heavy with exhaustion. Dallas was fighting to stay conscious and losing the battle slowly. In my arms, of all places.

I knew his current position well. Usually I’m the one half-asleep, looking through bleary eyes up at him while he’s got a gaze like no other fixed on my tired face. I always found those moments comforting, and in this particular moment I hoped he did too.

Before I knew it, his breathing slowed to a gentle, slumbering rate. I looked down at his face to see his eyelids fully closed and his mouth slightly agape in sleepy relaxation. Dallas Winston in this state is a rare sight. I feel like that should go without saying. He’s not a man that relaxes. Or maybe relaxation is not something that visits this man often. I’m not sure.

“Hmm not asleep, Doll,” Dallas mumbled through the haze, “I know you’re staring at me.”

“Shhh,” I cooed, “relax, Dallas, it’s okay. You can fall asleep. You need some shut eye.”

“M’fine,” he protested, as if something needed to be wrong for him to find a state of repose like this.

“Sure, baby,” I remarked, returning my hand to run it through his hair, “whatever you say.”

Rain continued to pour outside as whatever old western was on the TV ended. The good guys one, no surprise there. I didn’t catch much of it though because I couldn’t stop watching the St. Christopher on Dallas’s chest rise and fall with his sleepy breathing.

Just me and St. Christopher, protecting one Dallas Winston in his sleep.

[xxchthonicreaturexx]

~Saccharine~

Soft? Dallas Winston x Reader

"Dal? Honeybear, what happened?" You asked as you watched the broken man stumble through the doorway of your room.

"Shut up." He had muttered under his breath, his emotions threatening to show in front of you. He wasn't acting like himself, no, but he couldn't stop it. He couldn't put that fucking mask back on. Dally was too weak right now and Dallas Winston didn't do weak.

"What?" You ask, your voice soft as your soft hands reached out to comfort him. Why must you do this to him? Hadn't he been clear at the very beginning?! He warned you but you didn't listen. In fact you did everything in your power to break down his walls, and here he was crumbling before you.

"I said shut up!" He snapped at you, before he let out an emotional grunt, angry that he couldn't keep it together. Falling to his knees, he grasped at your sides, burying his face into your stomach as he trembled, fighting to keep those goddamned tears back.

it would be a lie to say that you didn't jump at his sudden outburst, but this was Dally. As tough as he acted and as hard headed as he was you knew he'd never hurt you. Not on purpose anyways.

"Shhh...Dal, it's okay. I promise." You whispered, his arms trapping you from moving away, so instead you just let your hands gently run through his soft locks.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He asked, his grip tightening, jaw clenched as he let out a soft choking of a cry. "All I need is some drinks and fist fight to make it go away but you. You..." he shook his head, tears now beginning to fall onto your sleep shirt as you tried your best to comfort him.

"You're too fucking sweet it's sick. You make me sick. You're disgusting." He uttered but you couldn't take offense. He never meant the words he said to you or Johnny, or any of the other Greasers really.

"Dallas." You started, making sure to use his full name to get his attention. No one just threw around his name like that, but somehow you were one of the few that could get away with it.

"I'm sweet because I care. It's because I care and I worry about you. I'm never going to stop caring about you, Dallas. There is not a single thing you could do to me that would make me love you any less." You reassured him, your voice having a gentle sternness to it. And with that he gave in.

The battle for him to truly be okay and accept that he was human and deserved to feel was far from over, but with you there someday he'd make it. Someday. But that night all he needed was to know you were there and you were real.

With three taps of his ring finger in your waist, he signaled that he loved you just as much back. He never said it out loud, no, but those three taps gave you all you needed as you helped him up and into your bed so he could finally get some real rest.

[sixxxes]

anon that asked for nerdy!male!reader x dallas winston.. i loved it so much. i agree dallas would SO be a jess mariano type character where he acts dumb looks dumb etc etc and never attends school yet is sooo smart and passes all his classes w all As ykwim

like he totally reads when he’s just laying around in bed but he’ll never tell a soul because he has a rep to maintain.

i think he’s a very intelligent person but he never did too well in school because he didn’t like how it was structured — the fact it was compulsory annoyed him because he hates doing what he’s told.

dally: books are pony’s thing man — like soda’s the pretty one, two’s the funny one, i’m the cool one — if i take books away from him what’ll he have going for him?

[casualwriters]

"Childhood friends" dallas Winston | drabble

"Dallas" the name fell out of your mouth before you could think of what else to say you went to Tulsa for a escape running from your parents you were not expecting to meet Dallas again, leaning on the wall smiling "it been a while" is Expression was Blank you had no idea what he was thinking "hey princess" he says. The last time you saw him was your junior year in highschool when you were both still kids when he was still involved in gangs and criminal activities You were heartbroken when he moved to Tulsa left you for the rest of your high school year, vulnerable with not many friends.

You were exiting the small worn down house your grandmother was here and needed someone to watch her and take care of things that when you saw Dallas all grown up walking around. "Can't believe you still call me that" rolling your eyes at him dusting the dinner uniform off. Dallas smirked "It fits when you got here?" He asked it was awkward and everything was weird it didn't feel like old time but it wasn't supposed to be "you working at the diner" nodding "i moved here to take care of my grandma she needs some help" Dallas was twisting a switch blade in his hand you gasp " you still have it! " Jumped down from the stairs you smiled " that was the last gift I gave you uh. " He nodded " yea it was Princess i stabbed a couple people" your face went shocked " Dallas that not funny! "

He laughed "just a little" he said slipping the blade in his pocket switching it with a box of cigarettes "still smoke?" He said you grabbed the box shaking your head "always turn the first one upside down. Good luck" Dallas and you started walking to your work he groans " that stuff is such bullshit" punching is shoulder " no it is not" Normally if anyone else did that he would have scowled or yelled at them but not with you "light?" You said holding it to your lips he grabbed some matches leaning over to light the cigarette he still smelled the same "thanks" the diner was soon to appear as it was right near DX the only gas station that wasn't on the Soc side.

"thank you Dal" you said walking to the dinner it felt nice to talk to him again after what happened taking one last hit of the cigarette before dropping it on the ground "bye dal!" You waved hauling into the dinner hoping your manager wouldn't be mad .

"Who is she?" Johnny said walking next to Dallas he looked at the kid ruffling his hair as he asked a question " an old friend " Johnny chuckled "she pretty"

Dallas grin "that she is kid."

[tjisntnice]

ok!!

Star player ☆

Nick Nelson x Charlie Spring :3 ⬇

The school had won another rugby match, all because of Nick. Charlie swore the team would be nothing without the other boy, he was the star player for a reason.

Charlie wasn't playing with the rest of the team. He had told Nick his ankle was swollen and he didn't think it'd be a good idea for him to play. Nick had than pointed out that it looked fine, to which Charlie had told him he could change that, making Nick agree that it did look a little painful.

Charlie was snapped out of his thoughts when Nick came running over to him, face red and out of breath. The blonde jumped on him, trapping him in a hug. Charlie returned it, laughing at the others antics.

Charlie giggled into Nick's shoulder, "I told you you could do it."

Nick laughed in response, "It would've been better if you were out there." He said, giving the boy a squeeze before releasing him.

Charlie hummed, pulling back to push the hair out of Nick's forehead.

"You did just fine without me, you are the star player." Charlie teased.

Nick ducked his face into Charlie's shoulder, groaning. The other boy just barely got a glance at the way his cheeks flaired up again.

[leighbaylee]

💜 ₊˚⊹ — lay me down

parring : dallas winston x platonic older f!reader

summary : pampering a drunk dally.

warnings : intoxication

age of paring : 18 - 20

extra : this comes from a completed one - shot project from wattpad that i had removed. orginal charaters (f!reader’s siblings in book) mentioned!

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍 was a guy who liked to party, no matter what day of the week it was.

he had been kicked out of a party hosted by tim shepard. not because he threw up all over his couch, also because he had enough alcohol.

you had never talked to tim like that but this one particular night he called your house phone letting you know dallas would stop by.

❝okay, uh huh, thanks tim have a good night.❞ you hung up the house phone and continued painting your nails.

❝y/n why were you talking to tim shepard?❞ your little brother charlie asked glancing between you and his book.

❝dallas is coming to stay the night, he isn't feeling very well.❞ you said shaking your freshly painted nails waiting for them to dry.

❝he iswnt gonnba slweep on ma bhed!❞ the eldest brother matteo yelled from the bathroom as he was brushing his teeth.

❝he won't teo..❞ you whispered as you waited worriedly for dally.

𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗌? you thought till you heard a click of the front door.

charlie let dally in and closed the door as soon as he stepped inside the toizer household to prevent cold air coming in.

❝dallas are you okay!?❞ you whispered yelled trying not to give him a headache.

❝mhm yea m' tired.❞ you looked up at his eyes forcing themselves open.

❝charlie go call matteo and help dallas get comfortable, im going to set the bed for him.❞

you said as charlie groaned as a protest but still complied.

you ran inside your bed room and removed your clothes and stuffed animals outta the way. you even fluffed the pillows for him and got a blanket for him.

you turned to the noises of your brothers grunting to push dallas into your room, clearly struggling.

❝finally!❞ matteo yelled as you shushed him not wanting dallas to get irritated.

they left and you sat on your vanity chair and took off dallas boots and his leather jacket and placed it on a place he can easily spot it.

you placed the blanket as dally shifted his position to get more comfortable, you felt giddy knowing dally was safe in the comfort of your home.

❝good night dallas..❞ you whispered thinking he didn't hear you.

❝i love you y/n.❞ dallas mumbled in response and you replied with ❝love you more dally, get some sleep.❞

you grabbed chocolate coins from your jewelry box and placed them on top of the nightstand so dally could have a sweet treat when he woke up the next morning.

୨⎯ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 ⎯୧

[quizzicalwriter]

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

Dating Dallas HC’s

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sundayiminlove]

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

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

i.

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

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

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

You have him, hook line and sinker.

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

You perk up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, here's the thing, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

And there you stand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[v4mpgutz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ — 100 FOLLOWER EVENT!

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

: YOU'VE BEEN OFFERED A SCHOLARSHIP!

by getting me to 100 followers, you're being offered a scholarship to my fashion school! request slots close on the 15th of february. all you need to do is select your favorite garment! (please read the whole document before submitting your application!)

all orders should be sent to my asks!

-> masterlist. will/won't write.

₊˚꒰🎀꒱‧ BABYDOLL DRESSES : send me a character, song & prompt and i'll write a oneshot!

₊˚꒰🪽꒱‧ SILK SLIPS : send me a character & colour and i'll write some headcanons! (single, platonic, romantic)

₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧ LACY BRALETTES : send me an nsfw prompt & character and i'll write a drabble!

₊˚꒰💒꒱‧ CLUTCH PURSES : send me a character & trope and i'll make a moodboard!

please refer to my will/won't write and the character list below for this event to run as smoothly as possible! i have every right to refuse to do a request if it goes against my guidelines and/or makes me uncomfortable.

₊˚⊹♡ CHARACTERS FOR THIS EVENT:

konig, simon "ghost" riley, johnny "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price, alejandro vargas, ethan landry, billy loomis, rafe cameron, jj maybank, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, rodrick heffley, dallas winston + possibly more - send me a message or ask if you would like to know if i'll write for a specific character that is not listed!

╰┈➤ love, river! ★

[goldilocks-pony]

Announcement!

I'm going to start queuing my writing for every wednesday at noon cst. This is an effort to keep my writing more consistent and not just vanishing for a month

[sleeplessgreaser]

Chapped Lips and Chewed Fingertips

pairing: Johnny x Dally word count: 1,103 warnings: mentions of blood and bruises

Original: #1 Johnny has a terrible habit of picking at his chapped lips and fingernails, and Dally has put it upon himself to Make Him Quit It - this has led to him having to pay more attention to Johnny's hands and lips and sometimes he just can't help but to zone out while staring at them.

Johnny always had chapped lips. He either spent too much time outside or didn't drink enough water (or maybe it was both). The problem, though, wasn't that they were chapped, it was that Johnny would pick at them. He told Dally that it was just a bad habit, and he couldn't help it. Sometimes he picked at a specific spot that was bugging him, a crack that was just raised enough to be annoying, and other times he did it without thinking. It was because of his nerves really.

Dally hadn't really paid it much attention until after they got together. Before then he'd only ever noticed it when they'd share a cigarette, and Johnny would pass it back with a fresh blot of red on the filter. Now though, it bothered him. Johnny's lips were pretty when they weren't all dry and cracked, sometimes they'd even be soft; that is if Dal harped on him about using chapstick for a week straight.

"Doesn't it bother you?" He'd asked him. "Don't they hurt?"

"Hm?" Johnny looked at him with that innocent expression, the one he never knew he was making.

"Your lips," Dally said, reaching forward to run a thumb over them. "Don't they hurt?"

"Naw, usually I can't really tell. If anything my fingers hurt more," he said lightheartedly as he looked down at his hands.

When Johnny wasn't picking at his lips he was biting at his nails. They were always gnawed short, and when he didn't have enough nail to bite at he opted to chew at the skin there instead. The skin at the corners of his fingernails was usually raw from where his teeth had ripped and tugged at it. Sometimes he'd even manage to give himself hangnails because of it, and then his fingers would sting for a week.

Dally held Johnny's hand, his fingers grazing over his knuckles as he examined them. Johnny watched him do this, as if he couldn't understand what was wrong with these habits of his.

"It ain't that bad, 's not like I'm really hurtin' myself, " Johnny said with a laugh. "Hell, you know smokin' is worse anyways."

Dally smiled when he looked back up at him. It annoyed him that Johnny couldn't help but "ruin" some of the most beautiful parts of his body - his sweet lips and delicate fingers - but glory, was it hard to stay mad at him.

After that Dally had decided to make it his job to get Johnny to quit. He'd make Johnny use his chapstick whenever he "forgot" to bring his own, he'd offer him a weed if he started absently chewing on his bottom lip, and he'd pay close attention whenever Johnny's hands even got close to his mouth. Of course they weren't together every second of the day so Johnny's habits persisted whenever Dally wasn't around, but over time they at least got a little better.

He had spent a lot of time staring at Johnny's fingers and involuntarily memorizing every imperfection and freckle that decorated the backs of his hands. One night they got high and Johnny let him map out the freckles on his hands and arms with a pen, and then they made up stupid names for the "constellations" he created. When Johnny convinced Dally to let him do the same on his arms he immediately found a way to draw a penis using Dal's much more numerous freckles as connect-the-dots; which led to him playfully pulling Johnny into a head-lock. Of course later they had to spend 20 minutes at the bathroom sink, messing with each other while trying to scrub the ink off their arms.

The other thing Dally spent a lot of time doing was staring at Johnny's lips. His bottom lip would have small flecked bruises in spots Johnny just couldn't leave alone, and sometimes they'd get puffy from where he'd chew on the inside of his lip. They didn't crack too often, but when they did Dal would end up glaring at them, knowing that Johnny would only make them worse. They'd split open sometimes when they kissed but Johnny would never react to it, and Dally wouldn't notice until he'd start tasting blood.

There was one day, when they were out with the gang, Dally noticed Johnny had been chewing on his bottom lip incessantly. Every time he looked over at him he had a tooth dug into it like a staple in a stack of paper. Of course he tried not to call him out on that kind of thing in front of the others, so he waited until he could pull him aside.

"Would'ya quit that? You're gonna dig a hole into your skin," Dally said as he grabbed Johnny's jaw and pried his lip out from under his tooth. It was swollen and red, and the crack in it was clearly irritated. "The hell are you even doin', are you tryna make it worse?"

Johnny looked away with his brow furrowed, and an embarrassed blush had started to creep into his cheeks. Of course as soon as Dallas had let go of him he went back to chewing on it.

"Johnny, quit it!" Dally grabbed his chin again and held it tight, yanking it so he'd face him again.

Johnny's eyes avoided his, and Dally sighed, loosening his grip a bit.

"I ain't tryna make it worse, it just- iunno, it's just buggin' me," Johnny mumbled.

"What, does it hurt?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not- it's just-- iunno, I guess it just kinda itches? But not, like, actually. It just- it feels better when I bite it."

Dallas stared at him with a skeptical look. "Wouldn't it hurt more if you bit it?"

"Well, yeah… kinda," Johnny looked down at the ground.

"So it hurts, but it feels… good?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth Dally immediately purged the idea from his mind, knowing that if he thought about it too long he'd get stuck on it. "Well, knock it off. It ain't gonna heal right if you keep messin' with it."

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny grumbled, pulling himself out of Dally's grasp.

Sometimes, if Dally stared long enough, he'd get lost in thought looking at Johnny's lips or fingers. It was a dangerous game to play, with how often his thoughts lead him down a homoerotic rabbithole, but he couldn't help it. He had to keep a close eye on him, so that Johnny wouldn't pick or chew at them - at least, that's what he told himself: It was for Johnny's sake.