#dally winston one-shot

[thewulf]

Troublemaker || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request -Hiiii! can you do a Dallas Winston x Curtis Sister Reader (maybe sodapop's twin?) who is soooo different than soda. She's a firecracker with a mouth on her that gets her in trouble? Dally finds himself repeatedly rescuing the Curtis sister reader, who always seems to get into trouble with her sharp tongue and rebellious streak... Read Rest Here

A/N: I kinda love this one deeply. Something about a troublemaker loving another one gets writing (alot) hahah hope you guys enjoy! Kinda OOC Dally at some points but idc, I love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Curtis Sister)

Word Count: 5.3k +

TW: choice words, fighting, punching, blood, general Outsiders TW

1. Clowns at the Drive-In:

The night was alive with the buzz of excitement at the local drive-in, the air thick with the scent of popcorn and gasoline. The flickering lights of the movie screen cast shadows across the rows of cars parked haphazardly, each filled with eager teenagers seeking a brief escape from the monotony of their everyday lives.

But for you, the Curtis sister, it spelled trouble. Perched on the hood of your twin brother Sodapop's car, you exchanged barbs with a group of Socs who had taken offense to your sharp retorts and fiery demeanor. Sodapop himself was inside the concession stand, chatting with a few friends, while your youngest brother Ponyboy was engrossed in a book, oblivious to the brewing confrontation outside. You’d never catch Darry at one of these movie nights anymore.

"You think you're real funny, huh?" one of the Socs sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he loomed over you, his companions snickering behind him.

You merely smirked, unfazed by the hostility radiating from the group. "Funny enough to make you clowns laugh, that's for sure."

Your words were met with a chorus of jeers and taunts, fueling the fire of your defiance as you squared your shoulders and met their gazes head-on. But just as the tension reached its boiling point, a looming figure emerged from the concession stand, cutting through the crowd with a swagger that commanded attention. For Dally always had his eyes on you. Especially after your parents passed.

Dallas Winston, the epitome of reckless abandon and untamed rebellion, emerged from the shadows like a predator stalking its prey. His presence alone commanded attention, the faint glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards the confrontation with an air of nonchalance.

As he drew closer, his leather jacket seemed to gleam in the dim light of the drive-in, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him like a phantom. His gaze swept over the scene before him, taking in every detail with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those unlucky enough to meet his stare. Dallas freaking Winston.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Dally drawled, his voice low and dripping with utter irritation as he finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation before him.

The Socs, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, turned their attention to him, their expressions shifting from hostility to uncertainty as they recognized the infamous greaser in their midst. But despite their feigned courage, there was an underlying sense of unease in their demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked beneath Dally's cool exterior.

"This ain't none of your business, Winston," one of them muttered, his voice tinged with defiance but faltering in the face of Dally's imposing presence.

Dally merely smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stepped between them and you, effectively cutting off any further confrontation with his sheer presence alone. His posture radiated confidence, a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge him.

"I think it is now," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine as you watched from your perch on the hood of the car. “You made it my problem.”

There was a tense silence as the standoff continued, the air heavy with anticipation as both sides weighed their options. But before things could escalate further, Dally's gaze flickered towards the Socs with a silent warning, a promise of consequences should they choose to push their luck any further.

With a final, angry glance in their direction, the Socs begrudgingly backed down, their bravado no match for the steely resolve of the infamous greaser. And as they slunk away into the shadows, defeated but not defeated, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude mixed with a sense of awe at the enigmatic figure who had just saved you from a brawl you couldn't have won.

After Dallas stepped between you and the Socs, a cocky grin spread across his lips, revealing that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. "Your welcome, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he turned his attention to you.

You bristled at his audacity, your temper flaring like a matchstick ignited. With a roll of your eyes, you shot back, "Don't flatter yourself, tough guy. I could've handled those idiots just fine on my own."

Dallas chuckled, unfazed by your sharp retort. "Sure, looked like it," he remarked, his grin widening as he leaned against the hood of Sodapop's car, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. "You know, not everyone needs a knight in shining armor to come to their rescue."

Dally raised an eyebrow, his expression turning contemplative as he studied you. "Maybe not, but it sure beats getting your pretty face smashed in by a bunch of Soc’s."

Your cheeks flushed with indignation at his comment, but you couldn't deny the underlying truth in his words. With a huff of frustration, you conceded defeat, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, maybe I owe you one," you muttered under your breath, your pride refusing to let you admit defeat outright.

Dally's grin widened at your admission, a glimmer of triumph shining in his eyes. "You owe me more than just one, sweetheart," he replied, his tone teasing as he pushed himself off the car. and sauntered away, leaving you seething with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration.

While you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about Dallas Winston that both infuriated and intrigued you in equal measure. And as the night stretched on, you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that your paths were destined to cross time and time again, whether you liked it or not.

2. A Brush with the Law:

In the midst of your rebellious streak, you found yourself in a predicament that even your usually suave tongue couldn't talk your way out of. It was one of those nights where mischief seemed like the only way to break free from the suffocating grip of the mundane.

The evening began innocently enough, with you and a few friends roaming the streets in search of excitement. The city lights flickered like distant stars, casting shadows that danced along the pavement, teasing you with the promise of adventure. But as the night wore on, the allure of mischief grew stronger, pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing moment.

It started with harmless pranks and playful banter, the kind of mischief that left a trail of laughter in its wake. But as the hours stretched on and the adrenaline surged through your veins, the line between harmless fun and reckless abandon began to blur. The world became a playground, and you were determined to make the most of it, consequences be damned.

By now, the cops knew you on a first-name basis from all the petty trouble you had caused. They had become all too familiar with your antics, chasing after you like a dog chasing its tail, only to watch helplessly as you slipped through their fingers time and time again. They had warned you countless times, given you more chances than you deserved, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, there was a weariness in their eyes, a sense of resignation that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. They were tired. Tired of dealing with your antics, tired of letting you off with a warning only to see you back at it again the next day. It was as if they had reached the end of their patience, the final straw in a long line of frustrations that stretched back further than you cared to remember.

But even in the face of their stern warnings and thinly veiled threats, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The thrill of rebellion was a drug, intoxicating and irresistible, and you were hooked. It was a dangerous game you played, dancing on the edge of disaster with reckless abandon, but in that moment, it was the only thing that made you feel truly alive. You needed it.

As they cornered you in the dimly lit alley, their voices stern and faces etched with grim determination, the threat of spending the night in jail loomed over you like a dark cloud. Panic gripped your chest in a vise-like grip, squeezing the air from your lungs as you frantically scanned the surroundings for a way out. But the walls of the alley closed in around you, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat's claws.

Your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences awaiting you if you were to be taken into custody. You couldn't shake the image of your oldest brother Darry's disappointed face, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern as he realized the extent of your latest misadventure. You knew he would be furious, not just at the trouble you had gotten yourself into, but at the worry and stress it would inevitably cause him and your other brothers. The fear of facing Darry's wrath was almost suffocating, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as you grappled with the realization of just how badly you had messed up. In your reckless pursuit of excitement and rebellion, you had failed to consider the consequences of your actions, the fallout that would inevitably follow in their wake.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a familiar figure emerged from the entrance of the alley, his presence a welcome relief in the darkness. Dallas Winston stepped forward with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his piercing gaze locking with the officers' with an unwavering intensity.

"Easy there, fellas," Dally drawled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that bordered on insolence. "No need to get your badges in a twist."

His words sliced through the tension in the alleyway like a well-honed blade, disrupting the somber atmosphere with an unexpected twist. The officers, taken aback by Dallas's nonchalant demeanor, exchanged wary glances, unsure of how to respond to his brazen defiance.

But Dally, ever the master of manipulation, wasted no time in seizing the opportunity to sway the officers to your side. With a casual shrug of his shoulders and a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you and the law enforcement with a confidence that bordered on audacity.

"Look, we all know she's a handful," Dally continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, laced with an undertone of genuine concern. "But taking her in ain't gonna solve anything. Trust me, I've tried. You know what they’ve been through."

As he spoke, a flicker of empathy flashed in his eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the turmoil that had plagued your life since your parents' untimely demise. He knew all too well the pain of loss, the ache of abandonment that lingered long after the funeral flowers had withered away. And though he rarely showed it, there was a part of him that understood the reckless desperation that drove you to seek solace in acts of rebellion.

The officers, their resolve waning in the face of Dallas's persuasive charm, exchanged hesitant glances, silently wrestling with their conscience. They knew the Curtis family's tragic history, knew the burden of responsibility that weighed heavily on your shoulders in the wake of your parents' death. And as they looked into your eyes, they saw not a delinquent, but a lost soul searching for a way to fill the void left behind by loss and grief.

With a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world, the lead officer relented. His shoulders slumped in defeat; the lines of exhaustion etched deeply into his weary face as he stepped aside to allow you to pass. "Fine," he grumbled, the resignation evident in his voice, "but this is the last time."

His words hung heavy in the air, a somber reminder of the precarious balance between leniency and accountability that governed their duties as law enforcement officers. They had given you more chances than you deserved, turned a blind eye to your transgressions time and time again, but they knew that their patience was wearing thin. There was only so much they could overlook before the hammer of justice came crashing down with unrelenting force.

Dally, ever the opportunist, seized upon the moment of vulnerability with a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken agreement as he draped an arm around your shoulders with an air of possessiveness. "Appreciate it, fellas," he remarked, his voice oozing with satisfaction as he guided you away from the alley, away from the looming threat of incarceration.

And as you walked side by side into the night, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had come to your rescue once again. You glanced up at him, the flickering streetlights casting shadows across his features, and offered him a tentative smile of thanks. It was a small gesture, a token of appreciation for his unwavering loyalty and unyielding support in the face of adversity.

As you looked at him, his cocky grin softened by a flicker of genuine concern, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, now held a warmth that caught you off guard, melting away the layers of cockiness to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability beneath.

But before you could dwell on it further, Dally's voice broke through your reverie, his words laced with a hint of amusement that conveyed the seriousness lurking just beneath the surface.

"You're quite the troublemaker, sweetheart," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with a note of concern.

You rolled your eyes in response, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips. "And you're quite the smooth talker, Winston," you replied, unable to hide the admiration in your voice despite your best efforts.

As the words left your lips, Dally's expression shifted, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. There was a weightiness to his gaze, a silent question lingering in the air as he studied you intently, his eyes searching for the truth behind your casual facade.

"Hey, are you actually alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, stripped of its usual playfulness. His concern was palpable, genuine, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he typically presented to the world. "This isn't like you, getting caught by the fuzz like that."

His unexpected tenderness caught you off guard, the sincerity in his question piercing through the layers bullshit you typically wore like armour. You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the depth of his concern, before offering him a small nod of reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears. You forced a casual tone, hoping to brush off the weight of his inquiry, the nagging doubts that gnawed at the edges of your mind. "Just got a little carried away, that's all."

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn't just a momentary lapse in judgment. There was a restlessness inside you, a longing for something more than the mundane routine of everyday life, that drove you to seek out trouble wherever you could find it. And in that moment, as you stood before Dally with his piercing gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you.

Dally continued to study you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. He didn't press further, sensing that there was more to your story than you were willing to reveal. Instead, he offered you a small, understanding smile, a silent reassurance that he would be there for you whenever you were ready to open up.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

His words caught you off guard, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity behind them. And as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

With a subtle squeeze of his arm around your shoulders, Dally offered you a reassuring smile, a silent promise that he would always be there to watch your back, no matter what trouble you managed to find yourself in. And as you walked side by side into the night, the echoes of his words mingling with the sounds of the city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

3. Escaping a Sticky Situation:

As the Friday night lights illuminated the football field, casting a glow of excitement over the small town, the air crackled with anticipation. It was meant to be a harmless prank, a bit of mischief to inject some excitement into the dull routine of small-town life. But what had started as a simple joke quickly spiraled out of control, and you, the Curtis sister, found yourself in a precarious situation.

The prank had been innocent enough at first—a bit of good-natured rivalry between the Greasers and the Socs. However, things took a dangerous turn when the Soc boys, their egos bruised and their tempers flaring, decided to retaliate with more than just words. They targeted you, singling you out from the crowd, their menacing glares and clenched fists leaving no doubt about their intentions.

Your heart raced with adrenaline, panic clawing at your chest as you frantically searched for a way out of the tightening circle of Soc boys. But as the situation grew more dire, Dallas Winston yet again emerged like a savior in the darkness, his presence a welcome relief amidst the chaos and looming threat of violence. By this point you were convinced it was your brothers who had him watching you for how else could he, quite literally, always be there to say you from these situations?

As the chaos unfolded near the stands, Dallas Winston's arrival seemed almost surreal. At first, his laughter echoed across the small courtyard area, a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air. But as he surveyed the scene, his amusement quickly morphed into a glare of righteous anger.

"Buncha tough guys picking on a little lady, huh?" Dally's voice cut through the chaos like a knife, his tone dripping with disdain as he confronted the Soc boys. His words carried a weight of accusation, a challenge to their masculinity and decency.

As Dally's words hung in the air, the Soc boys hesitated, their usual boastfulness faltering under his scathing gaze. But one of them, bolder—or perhaps more foolish—than the rest, reached out and laid a hand on your arm, his grip tight and menacing.

Instantly, Dally saw red.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, his fists flying in a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of punches on the Soc who dared to lay hands on you. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, the sound echoing across the field like a drumbeat of fury.

The other Soc boys, realizing their mistake too late, attempted to intervene, but Dally was a force to be reckoned with. With a ferocity born of righteous anger, he fought like a man possessed, his only thought to protect you from harm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was likely only seconds, Dally's onslaught came to an end. The Soc who had dared to touch you lay crumpled on the ground, bloodied, and bruised, but alive.

Dally stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and triumph. The other Soc's had long since fled, likely for help. But he didn’t give a damn. His attention was now on you. And as he turned to you, his expression softened with a mixture of relief and concern, seeing you standing there relatively unharmed. It was when he saw the tears in your eyes that he knew he had to do something.

Dally's gaze softened further as he approached you with caution, the fire in his eyes dimming to reveal a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He reached out tentatively, his rough hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded moments before.

"Hey, it's alright, sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to the turmoil raging inside you. "You're okay. It’ll be alright." He attempted to console you as best as he could, however it wasn’t his strong suit.

But the tears continued to flow unabated, a testament to the fear and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You tried to hold them back, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that had always been your shield against the world. But in that moment, with Dally standing before you, all of your defenses crumbled.

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you buried your face in your hands, the weight of the night crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You could feel the tremors wracking your body, the sobs tearing from your throat in ragged gasps.

Dally watched you carefully, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. Without a bit of hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, pulling you close to his chest as if to shield you from the world's cruelties. His arms felt surprisingly comforting, a safe haven amidst the chaos that had engulfed you.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay to let it out," he whispered gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your storm. "You're safe now, darlin'. I've got you."

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, calming the storm of emotions raging inside you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, to find solace in the warmth of his presence. As the tears continued to fall, Dally held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. He didn't try to offer empty reassurances or false promises. Instead, he simply held you, a silent pillar of strength in the darkness.

The Unexpected Thank You:

As the weight of the night's events settled upon your shoulders like a heavy cloak, you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you. The adrenaline that had fueled you earlier now gave way to a profound sense of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. And in the quiet solitude of the street, with only Dally's presence beside you, you felt the walls you had carefully built around your heart begin to crumble.

"Thank you, Dallas," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a rawness you hadn't expected. "For everything."

Your words hung in the air, vulnerable and exposed, a stark contrast to the tough exterior you usually wore like armor. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, as if a weight had been lifted from your chest. For so long, you had been carrying the burden of your troubles alone, too afraid to let anyone else see the cracks in your facade. But with Dally standing beside you, offering a silent anchor in the storm, you found yourself finally able to let go.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw something flicker beneath the tough exterior, something vulnerable and achingly human. It was a mirror of your own inner turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and loneliness that lurked within you both. And in that shared moment of vulnerability, you realized that perhaps, just perhaps, you were more alike than you had ever dared to imagine.

As Dally enveloped you in his embrace for the second time that night, his arms offering solace and refuge, a tender silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sound of your quiet sobs. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of the emotions coursing through you both. But as you held each other close, your hearts spoke volumes, weaving a silent symphony of understanding and compassion.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, you know," Dally murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "It's okay to let yourself feel, to let yourself grieve."

His words resonated deep within you, stirring a bittersweet ache in your chest. For so long, you had tried to bury your pain beneath layers of confidence and defiance, afraid to confront the gaping hole that your mother and fathers absence had left behind. But in Dally's embrace, you found the courage to face your demons, to confront the rawness of your grief without fear of judgment or rejection.

With trembling hands, you clung to him, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. And as you spoke of your mother, of the memories that still lingered like ghosts in the corners of your mind, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you, as if by giving voice to your pain, you could finally set yourself free.

"I miss her, Dally. I miss them," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. "Every day, it feels like a piece of me is missing. Like I'm lost without her. She was my best friend and now she’s just gone.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless passage of time. And as you gazed into Dally's eyes, you saw your own pain reflected back at you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"You're not alone, sweetheart," Dally replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I may not have all the answers, but I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

In that moment, you felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the tough greaser who had stood by your side through thick and thin. In his arms, you found a sense of belonging you had never known, a sanctuary from the storm of emotions that raged within you.

In the hushed intimacy of your embrace, the turmoil within you quieted, replaced by a sense of tranquility you had never known. But amidst the stillness, a storm raged within you, a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

With each steady heartbeat, you felt the tendrils of affection wrapping around your heart, weaving a tapestry of emotions you struggled to comprehend. The way his touch ignited a warmth deep within you, the way his voice soothed the turmoil of your soul — these were sensations you had never experienced before, and yet they felt undeniably right.

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you couldn't shake the realization that your feelings for Dally surpassed mere gratitude or admiration. It was something more, something you couldn't quite put into words but felt with every fiber of your being.

In the quiet of the night, you allowed yourself to explore these newfound emotions, to sift through the tangled mess of your thoughts and feelings. And in doing so, you came to a startling revelation — you liked him, more than you had ever dared to admit.

But the thought of confessing your feelings to Dally filled you with a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if your friendship was forever altered by your admission?  Yet, as you glanced up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored your own. Perhaps, you thought, he felt the same way — a silent understanding that transcended words.

Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to do. With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, your touch feather-light against his stubbled skin.

"Dally," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you."

As your eyes met, you sensed an unspoken understanding passing between you. Without needing further words, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. It was a tender gesture, filled with reassurance and affection, a silent promise of his unwavering support and care.

But before you could utter another word, Dally's hand gently tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours with a intensity that made your heart race.

"I need to tell you something too," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft night breeze.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.

"Doll," he continued, his voice husky with emotion, "I've been wanting to say this for a while now, but I ain't never found the right words. I reckon there’s no fancy way to put it, so I'll just say it straight."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting your gaze once more.

"I love you," he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a sacred vow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, emotions swirling within you like a tempest. For so long, you had harbored these feelings, afraid to voice them, afraid of what they might mean for your friendship, for your future. But now, as those three simple words hung in the air between you, you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your chest, replaced by a warmth that radiated from the very core of your being.

You searched his eyes, seeking confirmation of the truth you dared to believe. And there, amidst the depths of his gaze, you found it — sincerity, vulnerability, and a love that mirrored your own. It was a revelation that left you breathless, a realization that this connection you shared transcended the boundaries of friendship, binding you together in a bond that felt unbreakable.

"I love you too, Dally," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, as if afraid that speaking the words aloud would make them disappear into the night.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading into insignificance as you both basked in the sheer weight of those words. They held within them the promise of a future unknown, yet somehow certain in its inevitability. And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, you felt a sense of belonging wash over you, as if you had finally found your place in the world.

With his arms around you, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, no matter what storms threatened to tear you apart, you had each other. Together, you could weather any adversity, conquer any obstacle that stood in your path. For in each other's arms, you found strength, comfort, and a love that knew no bounds.

"Hey," he whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear as he held you close. "You don't have to say anything more. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere."

For the first time in a while you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a profound gratitude for the man who stood by your side through thick and thin. With a heartfelt sigh, you nestled against him, finding solace in his presence as you stood together beneath the starlit sky. In his embrace, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the uncertainties of the world outside. And as you looked up at the twinkling stars above, you knew that your love would light the way through even the darkest of nights, guiding you towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

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[hmar177]

DALLAS WINSTON ONE SHOT <3

******SMUTTTTTTTYYYYY******

I'm not sure when I stopped loving Jack, but I know it crept out of the subconscious of my mind the second I saw that damn photo. I know I shouldn't feel this way, Jack is perfect. He comes from a good family, he's sweet and charming, he gets along with my friends and brings my mom flowers everytime he comes over. He was everything I could have dreamed for myself. He is who I should want. But that damn picture of Dallas Winston.

I wish he had just stayed on his side like he was supposed to.

My predicament started a few months ago when I was walking home from school. I had to stay late after my final class to run over a few plans with the committee for the dance coming up. It was my first dance that I was fully running myself and I was over the moon about it. I loved planning big events like this. My brain worked meticulously over every detail and it was so satisfying watching it all come together.

After I had finished my meeting with Sally and Davis, I found myself taking my normal walk home. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was just low enough in the sky to cast a gentle, warm glow on my face, the leaves left a quiet hum in my ears, and I found myself inhaling the glorious scent of the freshly landscaped houses as if the scent would live forever in my lungs if I breathed deep enough.

As I rounded the last corner before my street, I heard loud screeching coming from behind me. A car full of what seemed to be 4 or 5 rowdy boys came barreling down the street. Blasting loud rock music and howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came up fast. I stopped in place and watched as they came closer. They slowed up ever so slightly as they passed me, giving me a good chance to glance into the vehicle. I didn't recognize them, but I did recognize the driver. Dallas Winston.

With his sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose and a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, he held my eyes as he cruised by. I can't tell if I imagined it or not, but I thought I caught a hint of a smirk on his face before he punched the accelerator once more and took off before I could even register the entire exchange. It almost felt like I had just hallucinated that whole sequence.

What were a bunch of greasers doing over here on the west side? Not that I ever had anything against them, I just figured they would want to stay clear of a bunch of privileged, snotty folks who are constantly after their demise.

I had never met Dallas before, but I knew bits and pieces about him. Grew up with a rough homelife, dropped out of school, and even wound up in prison for a while. Everyone in this town saw Dallas and all the greasers as less than. I saw them as kids who just had shit luck when it came to the parents department.

I knew some greasers. There were quite a few in my grade, like Sodapop Curtis. He was one of the sweetest kids I ever met. Had a heart of gold, and a boatload of love for some girl Sandy he always seemed to mention. Soda dropped out a few months ago though after his parents both died tragically in a car accident. Another example of kids with shit luck and no ones around this town to sympathize for them.

Later that night, I found myself sitting at my desk trying to work on my short story. I was assigned by my English teacher to write a short story loosely based on a truly exciting and invigorating time in my life that made me feel alive. The only problem was I have never had an experience in my life that could remotely be described as such.

Everyday, I wake up, go to school, go to event committee meetings, or to my internship at the local newspaper, The Tulsa Chronicles. After all that, I either come home and do homework, or just hangout at the drive in with my friends and my boyfriend Jack. Nothing about my routine is special or interesting. It never changes and I don't see it altering anytime soon. In a town with so little to do, it is quite the tall order to ask us to find something interesting to write about.

I want to be a writer some day, so when I can't complete a simple short story for school, it horrifies me that I may be chasing after a hopeless dream. I intern at the Tulsa Chronicles in hope of it being a good addition to my college applications, but for now I am just helping with the printing and shipping of the papers. One of the editors told me if I had a writing piece that I was proud of, I could pass it along to them and they could give it a read and see if there were any opportunities for me to write something for the paper soon. I was hoping this short story could be that piece that I was proud of, but that is looking like a pipe dream now.

After staring at my blank paper for what feels like hours, I decide tonight is not the night that I am going to find any inspiration, so I turn out the lights and climb into bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me. Maybe I'll dream of those greasers, flying through neighborhoods and screaming, sounding like they are high on the freedom that life has to offer. I want a taste of what they are having.

The next day is the same as all the other ones, not to anyone's surprise. I woke up, went to school, and made my way over to the Tulsa Chronicles. When I walked in, the newsroom was buzzing much more than normal. In a town as boring as Tulsa, there is not a ton of news to report, so when the newsroom was like this, something major must have happened.

“Rose, get to the printer stat. We need to start loading up these boxes now!” my boss Susan yelled from across the room.

“On it!” I let her know.

As I made my way to the printer, pages were flying out faster than I have ever seen before. This must be a big story if they have the printers working this hard.

Page after page, I watched them stack into a nice pile until the cover page finally flew out.

It read, “Delinquent youths turn heroes after daring fire rescue”

Right next to the title, I saw their faces, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Caid, and Dallas Winston.

Pony and Johnny's pictures didn't shock me. Cherry Valance told me a few days ago how sweet and kind they had been to her at the drive in and they always seemed like kind approachable kids. But cherry had also mentioned that Pony and Johnny had protected her from, Dallas Winston

Dallas had always seemed so cold and foreboding. Even his smirk from yesterday's drive by left a chill down my spine. It wasnt that I was afraid of him, but Dallas Winston wasn't someone you just assumed you could become fast friends with. You had to earn his loyalty to be seen with him. His picture being tagged alongside this story seemed extremely out of character. Dallas had his family of greasers and he had himself. There wasn't much else he was looking after. Especially not strangers in some random church fire.

I picked up the front page and looked at it very closely. Part of me didn't want to assume like the rest of this town that this was a mistake, but a bigger part of me couldn't help but think this wasn't true. Dallas Winston saving children he didn't know? Dallas didn't walk by a child in the street without trying to terrify them in some way. Something isn't adding up. Were we all utterly wrong about him? I couldn't help but just stare at his picture, trying to see him run into that burning church. Coming out covered in ash, carrying a couple kids in his arms and placing them down gently before rushing back inside to save more. I felt a twinge in my chest. Something I haven't felt before.

“Rose! Quit daydreaming and pack up those papers. The delivery service will be here in 20 to take those boxes out. They better be filled!” Susan yelled.

“Yes of course.” I replied, suddenly taken out of my temporary, and odd trance.

As I loaded each paper into the boxes, my eyes lingered a little too long on Dallas’s face as each paper piled onto the next. After what must have been hundreds of papers, I “accidentally” misplaced one in my bag sitting next to me. I don't know why I took it. I would surely be getting one of these papers delivered to my house within the next day or so, but part of me wanted to just have this for me. I also didn't want to explain to my dad why I needed his morning paper, the one I had helped package and ship out and have had access to for over a day.

After loading the last box and as a sudden calmness came over the newsroom, it was finally time to head home. I grabbed my bag, making sure the paper was tucked in enough so that it wouldn't be seen, said goodnight to the staff, and made my way out.

As I walked out of the building, I looked up to see Jack leaned up against his shiny new sports car that his parents just bought him as a good job for making the basketball team present. It sounds ridiculous and it is ridiculous. When you come from money like Jack's family, there are very few occasions that don't involve an illustrious gift such as the sports car he now leans against.

I say all this with complete understanding that I come from a family very similar to Jacks. I am privileged and I know that, but I don't see that as a reason to act any differently towards others. Why should the number that's on my fathers paychecks determine whether I am a better person than others? It doesn't. But people like Jack feel that it does. But Jack makes me smile, and my mother hasn't shut up about those lilies he brought her this past weekend when he was over for dinner. Who could hate Jack, right?

“Hey there honey. How was the journalism world today?” Jack says with a smile as he opens the passenger side door for me to get in. Jack picks me up whenever he's in the area and he knows I'm here. It's very sweet of him. Another reason to love him, right?

“Busy. There was a big story today so there were a lot more papers to print and ship.” I told him.

“Really! What was the story?” He asked.

I hesitated for a second.

“Oh I don't remember. I didn't really get a chance to read it. Too busy getting them into boxes.” I explained. I don't know why I lied. I think a part of me felt guilty about the things I felt and thought as I looked at Dallas’s picture the past few hours and another part of me wanted to keep Dallas to myself for a bit longer because by morning everyone would be talking about him. More people would be picturing him as this grand hero, and I still wanted to be the only one who saw him that way.

The rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence. That was the best way to describe me and Jack's relationship. Comfortable. Our parents set us up freshman year of highschool and we fell into the narrative with ease. He was cute and popular. It made sense why I should want him, so I convinced myself I did. And it worked for a while. A long while now. But as we come towards the midway point of Junior year, I'm not too sure how much longer I can convince myself that Jack is what I want. But what would be my reason for leaving him? He was too nice to my parents? He made one too many jokes that made all my friends laugh? He was too popular? Too athletic? On paper he was perfect. Trying to tell anyone that my time with Jack was coming to an end would make me sound like the biggest fool. So I just stayed. There was no reason to leave, even though I wanted there to be so badly.

We pulled up to the front of my house and he came around and opened my door. I thanked him and looked up to my house. The big, beautiful white home sat on top of the hill at the top of my street with a huge porch that wrapped around the whole house, and perfectly painted blue shutters. It was truly out of a magazine and I was eternally grateful for being able to be raised in a home as beautiful as this one. The dining room light shined bright and I knew my parents were in there waiting for me to arrive so we could have dinner as a family. Jack took my hand and walked me to the door. My mother opened it as we took the final step onto the porch.

“Jack!’ My mother said, “How kind of you to bring Rose home. Won't you come in and join us for dinner.”

A pit immediately formed in my stomach.

“I'd love-” Jack started before I cut him off.

“I'm actually not feeling very well so I think I am just gonna go to bed.” I quickly sputtered out. Facing Jack I said, “Maybe another night.”

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing up the stairs and straight into my room before anyone else could say anything. That was definitely rude of me, but the thought of having to sit next to Jack for the next hour, knowing I smuggled home a paper with the only intention of staring at the man on the cover made me extremely nauseous. I may not feel for Jack the way I used to, but I wouldn't be disrespectful, and if I was gonna be disrespectful, I wasn't gonna allow him to eat dinner with me and my family as if everything was fine and dandy.

I sat down on my bed and immediately removed the paper from my bag. It wasn't often that I had strange outbursts such as the one I just had downstairs, so I knew my parents would leave me be for a while. I took the paper, and got comfortable. Reading the entire article front and back and learning that what the title states was indeed true, I took the cover and discarded the rest of the pages. Holding Dallas’s picture up, I thought about the words in the article and how they described the man I was looking at. Bold. Courageous. Brave. Not words I would initially think of when I heard the name Dallas Winston.

His face held hard lines in his jaw and forehead. He had strong dark features and striking eyes. He was beautiful in a rugged and tired way. A way that you never see here in the west side neighborhoods. I was mesmerized by his stern stare. I wanted to know everything about him and I wanted to know it now. I wanted to spend a day with him and learn what it took to earn his trust. To earn a glance from those haunting eyes. The way he looked at me as he rode past me in his car yesterday felt like a shot of espresso. It jolted something awake inside of me. I needed another hit. I craved it.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my body was up and at my desk. I was opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. I slowly and carefully cut around his face making sure not to accidentally trim anything important off, because truthfully it was all important. He was important and I needed to know why.

I held the small picture of Dallas Winston between my fingers, holding as close to the edge as possible, with fear I might smudge it, and I grabbed a piece of tape. Walking over to my bed, I taped the picture on my wall right next to where my head lays when I sleep. I could hide it during the day behind my pillows when I made my bed. It was just for me. He was my new interest. He was my excitement that I had been looking for, I just had to find a way to make these little daydreams something real. As I crawled into bed with the image of dark raven eyes flashing through my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, Jack, my parents, and Tulsa all feeling like a distant memory rather than my reality.

It could have been 3 hours or 3 minutes, but before I knew it, I was woken up by the sound of my desk lamp falling to the ground and a soft breeze coming from my window that I was sure was closed when I got into bed. I shot up like an arrow and reached for the lamp on my bedside table, flicking it on as fast as I could. As the light flooded the room, I was immediately met with the eyes I saw as I lulled myself to sleep. I had to be imagining him right? Dallas Winston stood right there in the middle of my bedroom, standing at least 6 foot 2, drowning in his leather jacket, with his signature blue jeans, and a black eye that was shining through even in the dim lighting.

“Dallas?” I began before he ran over to my bed and clasped his hand around my mouth and the other one slid behind my head keeping me quiet and still.

Slowly he shook his head as if to tell me, now is not a time for talking. I assumed he was scared my parents would hear him, which I am now realizing never even crossed my mind. My parents would lose their minds if they strolled into my room right now to find a greaser, Dallas Winston worst of all, standing in my bedroom at, I flashed my eyes to my clock, 2am. But my parents never even entered my head, nothing really entered my head. Not fear, not my parents, not jack. All I could think about was that incredible shot of adrenaline I felt when I saw him, and coming up with a plan to make him stay as long as possible so I didn't have to stop this feeling.

All of a sudden I heard sirens, and red and blue lights flash past the house at a high speed. I looked up at Dallas who was looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear. His hands were still firmly placed around my head. I studied his face while he wasn't paying attention to me, just as I was doing last night. But this was ten times better. The picture didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead from running I assumed, and his hair drooped gently in front of his eyes, giving him a rugged elvis look. I could stare at him for hours and not get bored for a second.

Once he saw that he was in the clear, he slowly brought his attention back to me. He studied my face for a second, a small shimmer of something in his eyes but I don't know what it was. After a moment he brought his eyes around my room, studying the pictures and posters on my walls that I'm sure I'll be embarrassed about later, to the books on my nightstand, and with another flick of his gaze, he was locked in on something behind me. He stared long and hard and I couldn't think of what it could be. He slowly came inclose, his lips right next to my ear.

“Well I'll be damned. Looks like I have a fan.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

My eyes widened, the picture. Dallas WInston was looking at the picture of him I cut out and taped next to my bed.

“Now tell me darling, if I remove my hands, can you stay quiet and not let anyone know I am here? Because I do have a few questions about this I'd like to ask.” He said quietly with a shit eating grin on his face, so good, that it could seduce the Queen of England.

I slowly nod. Why am I not terrified right now? A known felon is standing in my room right now in the middle of the night. He snuck in my window in an attempt to run from the cops. I am harboring a criminal right now as we speak and all I can think about is how I can end things with Jack so that this lasts forever.

“Good Girl.” He says softly, then slowly takes his hands off my mouth, immediately missing the feel of his touch. God I was so fucked.

He pulled over my desk chair and took a seat right in front of me, our knees almost touching. He held the picture between his fingers looking at it, then up to me.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing hanging up pictures of bad Dallas Winston on her pretty pink bedroom walls?” He asks.

I think I stopped breathing. What was I supposed to say? There was no real explanation for why I hung up the picture other than I was chasing a feeling I couldn't even name. I stared blankly trying to say anything, trying to think of something to say that would make him as interested in me as I was in him.

“Well?” He pushed after I sat there stunned for I don't even know how long.

“Uhh, I, Uh….. I think I want to feel what you feel.” I said. Shit. That didn't even make any sense. He for sure thought I was crazy. He looked at me puzzled.

“Honey, the last thing you want is to feel what I feel.” He gave a small laugh that created small needles in the back of my throat and moved to get up.

“I want to feel alive. I want to be reckless and have fun. You have fun, don't you?” I said quickly, anything coming out of my mouth was just a hidden plea for him to stay.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked back over to me. The moon casting a soft glow on his hard features. The shimmer in his eyes came back for a second. He slowly sat back down.

“Oh, I have fun. But the kind of fun I have would give a soc like you nightmares.” He said with venom on his tongue. I couldn't tell if he was threatening me or daring me to push him more.

“Show me.” I whispered. Dally smirked at me pondering my dare for a split second, before he slid his switchblade knife out of his pocket and softly dragged the blade from my fingertips, up my arm, and across my collar bone. Every hair on my body stood straight up. My breath hitched ever so slightly and he moved the blade to my neck and held it there.

Part of me was truly scared, and another part of me felt that there was something a bit performative too. Dallas Winston wasn't going to hurt me. I knew that for a fact. He leaned in close, taking a strand of my hair in his other hand, and brought his lips to my ear.

“Are you having fun yet?” He said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk in his words.

I backed away so I could meet his eyes. A fire raged behind them. I would give anything to look inside his brain, even for just a moment. I smiled at him and I could see the excitement grow. I don't know why, but I liked what was happening. I liked the uncertainty of what he was going to say and do, and I liked that I trusted him for no reason at all.

“I think I like you more than I should.” I say. I don't know why I said that. I wasn't even embarrassed that I did. It was like being close to him unlocked a new version of myself that I didn't know existed. A version of myself that had confidence and a desire to push the limits. I felt alive.

“Do you like me more than your boyfriend?” He grinned.

“Do you want me to?” I challenged. He grinned and his gaze flicked down to my lips for a moment before it returned to my eyes. The knife at my throat is all but forgotten.

“Let's make a deal. If I can kiss better than a soc, you have to go out with me.” He said.

“And if you can't?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Oh honey, there are very few things I can't do.” He said leaning in and attaching his lips to mine. I felt the knife hit the bed next to me as I melted into his kiss and his hands wrapping around my face.

It was soft and slow for all but a moment, before I knew it he was laying me down on the bed and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I guess it wasn't forcing it, more like me waiting for it and craving it.

My hands roamed his body, feeling his toned muscles through his thin black tee shirt. I slid his leather jacket off, as his hands found their way under my shirt. He planted his hand on my stomach and pushed me down to the mattress keeping me in place. A breeze gently floated in from the window, and it made me hyper aware of the slickness that was now coating my thighs.

His mouth moved to my cheek and then to my neck. I clasp one of my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. He placed his thigh between my legs allowing me to move my hips to get some relief.

God what was I doing? How did it come to me grinding on Dallas Winston in my bed at 2 in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. It was all too much. Too good.

“How am I doing sweetheart?” He said in my ear before he brought his face back up to look me in the eyes. “I think the tears in your eyes are telling me that I'm gonna see you tomorrow night.”

I moaned into his shoulder, as I felt his hand trail down my abdomen and underneath my waistband. He teased there for a moment, smirking down at me waiting for me to stop him, but there was no way in hell I wanted this to ever end. I gave him a quick nod before he cupped me over my underwear. He quickly covered my mouth with his own as he knew I was about to moan. He chuckled softly into the kiss.

“My God Dallas. Oh my god” I moaned into his mouth.

“I am a God, aren't I?” He growled before sliding his fingers underneath my underwear and inside of me. The pleasure was so overwhelming, that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out. He groaned from the pain, but I knew he liked it.

As his fingers pumped in and out of me, he slowly started to grind himself into my hip. He was hard. I felt him poking through his tight jeans, begging to be let out.

“Dallas. I want you.” I begged. I need more of him. I need him closer.

He removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty. I looked up at him and he immediately placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking me off of them. I let out a moan. He was trailing kisses down my chest, then my stomach, never taking his eyes off of me.

“I know baby, I know. Not yet though.” He assured me. “I just need a little taste first.”

He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and my underwear and slowly pulled them down, never stopping his trail of kisses that now led down my leg.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself as he was now eye level with my core. “Spread your legs for me baby.” I do what I'm told. “That's it. Good Girl. Now lay back and let me worship you.”

Dallas wastes absolutely no time diving right in and taking all of me into his mouth. He licks from top to bottom and back again before taking my clit into his mouth and sucking. “So sweet.” He moans into me.

I have to grab the pillow on my bed and cover my face because the scream I almost let out would have surely woken up the entire neighborhood. Dallas’s name on the tip of my tongue. The name about to escape with every moan that shoots through me, which would not only let the town know I was in the middle of the most erotic moment of my life, but also it was Dallas Winston that was buried between my legs.

I feel one of Dallas’s hands remove from my thigh and I look down to see what he was doing. I look down to see Dallas’s mouth still attached to my clit, but his eyes boring into mine with the most seductive look I have ever seen in my life. Without ever looking away from me, Dallas removes his mouth, now just an inch away from me, and takes a little gold foil packet out of his pocket and takes it straight to his mouth. He rips the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom out.

He stands up. His 6 foot 2, god-like stance, looming over me, made me feel so small and helpless on my bed. God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall right now, wanting to see what I might look like. My shirt pushed up, shorts and underwear thrown about the room somewhere, My hair probably a mess, and tears staining my face as Dallas Winston stands over me, slowly unbuckling his belt.

He smirks down at me and he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection and my god it was big. I honestly didn't know if it was gonna fit inside of me. Right on cue, as if he could read my mind, Dallas says, “Don't be scared darling, you can handle it.”

He goes to put on the condom, but I sit up quickly, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “Can I do it?” I ask him. He looks down at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that could kill.

“Fuck yeah you can.” he says in a breathy tone as he hands me the condom. I take the condom out of his hand and hesitantly grab his dick. A low grumble comes from his throat as I give it a little pump before rolling on the condom.

The second it's on, he pushes me on my back, and comes down on top of me. He starts to position himself at my entrance and looks me in the eyes. “Baby, as much as I want this to last forever, I'm not gonna last very long.” He leans in kissing me hard and chuckles against my lips and I smile at his words. Yeah, me neither.

I take a deep breath and he thrusts inside of me. I clasp my arms around his neck and hug him as close to me as possible. He is big and it hurts so good. I bite into his shoulder again trying to distract myself from the pain, but also from the fact that my orgasm is seconds away and he just got inside of me.

He whimpers in my ear as I kiss his neck profusely. He finds a steady pace that has me borderline drooling. “God Dallas, don't stop. It feels so good.” I barely get out because I can barely catch my breath. I shoot one of my hands out and feel something sharp hit my finger. I look down to see Dallas’s knife still sitting next to us on the bed. It must have nicked my finger. Before I can register what's happened, Dallas takes my bloodied finger and sucks it into his mouth while holding my gaze. His eyes were hooded, and looking drunk off sex.

“Come for me baby. Come on. I know you're there. Show me how good I make you feel.” He begs me. Between his words, and my finger in his mouth, I'm there in a second. Burying my face into his neck, my orgasm rips through me harder than it ever has before. My nails digging into his bicep and a drip of sweat going down my forehead. Dallas still thrusts into me hard and fast for a moment more before he takes my lips into his and I feel his dick twitch as he spills into the condom.

He lays on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear for what feels like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. He slowly removed himself from me, then pushed up so he was hovering over me again. He smiled down at me as I grabbed his face with my hands, pulling him down to kiss me. His kiss was so gentle, the word love flew through my head, but it was only a fraction of a thought.

I brushed my finger over his cheek bone, before noticing my finger was still bleeding. I brought it to my face, inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep at all. Just a knick. Dallas took my finger to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the cut. Adab of blood coating his lip, only for a second before he licked it off.

“What time are you free tomorrow?” He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck, no doubt leaving more hickeys.

“Maybe around 7?” I told him. “I just have to go break up with Jack, and then I'm all yours.” I giggled lightly. He came back up and looked at me with the most serious expression I saw all night.

“All mine.” He smiled.

***hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! DALLAS WINSTON I LOVE YOU***

[stephstars08]

Please, Please, Please

Dallas Winston x SOC!Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Angst, Fluff, Sexual References, Sexual Contact, Arguing, Lying, Verbal Abuse, Anxiety, Smoking Tobacco, Implied Smut, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!!)

Summary: Y/N is apart of the SOC’s but she’s dating the baddest greaser, Dallas Winston. Y/N isn’t your typical good SOC girl which is why her and Dallas connected so well. Once her parents found out about the relationship the only way they allowed the relationship is because Y/N told them that she’s changed Dallas. Everything was going good till Y/N’s little sister, Cherry puts the big lie to the test when she suggests Dallas to come to a family dinner.

Song Inspiration: Please Please Please By Sabrina Carpenter

Word Count: 2,284

Author’s Note: Here is my first Dallas Winston imagine! I really hope you all like this since I’ve gotten so many ideas for more imagines! This has to be the longest story I’ve written in a while! Also, if you are a big fan of Cherry in the movie, you might want to skip this. Hope you all enjoy!

Y/N is a seventeen-year-old girl who is a senior at the local high school in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Y/N comes from a wealthy family and she’s part of the SOC but that doesn’t mean she’s innocent like all the other SOC girls. Even though her parents think she’s a good girl, her little sister Cherry knows that she’s far from innocent.

Y/N is in a relationship with Dallas Winston who is the baddest of the greasers in town. Everyone knows that Y/N and Dallas are an odd couple because they come from two completely different families but again Y/N isn’t your typical rich girl.

Y/N has been dating Dallas for six months now. Y/N met Dallas during the summer before her senior year. Her parents just found out about the relationship two months ago. Her parents were beyond furious that their perfect daughter is dating a low-class bad boy, but Y/N told them that since she started dating Dallas, he’s become a completely different person. She’s become a good influence on him.

Cherry saw right through Y/N’s lie but their parents believed the lie which made Cherry furious. It drives her crazy that her parents think Y/N is a goody goody.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N just got out of school and was greeted by Dallas who was standing outside on the side road leaning up against his car waiting for her like he does everyday. Usual Y/N goes with Dallas to hang out with his greaser friends but this time she couldn’t since her parents told her this morning that they wanted her home right after school.

As Dallas drove her home they talked and sang along to the songs that played on the radio. A lot of things Dallas said he would never do changed when he started going out with Y/N. She’s brought out this side of him that he never knew he had.

Dallas parked his car in front of Y/N’s house. “We still on for the movies tonight?” Dallas asked her as he watched her take her seat belt off. “Of course.” Y/N told him picking her book bag off the floor. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” Dallas told her. “And I’ll be waiting.” Y/N told him with a flirty wink and got out of the car.

After Dallas drove away Y/N made her way inside her house. Cherry was sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV. “Wow, surprised you actually listened to dad for once.” Cherry said acting surprise. Y/N rolled her eyes as she tossed her book bag down onto the floor. “Well, I got to keep mom and dad thinking that I’m helping Dallas become a better person.” Y/N told her. “You know you can’t keep up with that shitty lie forever.” Cherry told her in a stern tone as she folded her arms over her chest.

Before Y/N could say anything, they heard their mom call out to them from the kitchen. “Y/N, Cherry, your father is home with big news!” They heard her call out to them. Cherry turned the TV off and stood up from the couch. Cherry followed Y/N into the kitchen.

“Girls, I got big news.” Mr. Valance told them with an exciting smile on his face. “What is it?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone. “I got the promotion at work today.” Mr. Valence told them. “Dad, that’s wonderful!” Cherry told him with excitement. “How are we going to celebrate?” Y/N asked happy for her dad. “I’m going to cook us a big and nice dinner on Sunday to celebrate.” Mrs. Valance answered.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Cherry started. “Y/N, how about you invite Dallas to dinner. Show us how much you’ve changed him.” Cherry suggested which made Y/N’s heart drop to the floor. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.” Mrs. Valance said with excitement. “It does. Good idea, Cherry.” Mr. Valence agreed and walked out of the kitchen with his wife following behind him.

“Cherry! What the fuck?” Y/N said in a snappy tone. “What? You said you needed mom and dad to keep thinking you’re a good influence on Dallas.” Cherry told her. “Now is your chance.” Cherry added with a smirk and walked out of the kitchen.

“Fuck!” Y/N hissed out in frustration as she ran a hand through her hair.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That night Y/N went into the drive-in movie with Dallas, but she wasn’t her usual talkative self and Dallas noticed. They sat in his car watching the movie.

“You, okay?” Dallas asked her looking over at her as he had his one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Y/N looked away from the movie screen and at his brown eyes. “No.” Y/N answered with a shake of the head. Even though her parents can’t tell when she’s lying, Dallas can.

“What’s wrong?” Dallas asked her with concern in his voice. “My parents want you to join them for a family dinner we’re having on Sunday.” Y/N told him which made Dallas let out a laugh. “Yeah, no fucking way.” Dallas said with a harsh laugh. He stopped laughing when he saw the frustrated look in Y/N’s eyes.

“You said no. Right?” Dallas asked her. “Dallas, the only reason why they are letting me date you is because I told them that I turned you into a good guy.” Y/N told him. “So, you want me to fake being good just like you?” Dallas said looking away from her as he shook his head. “I know what I’m asking is big but if I say you can’t come, they will get suspicious.” Y/N told him in a stern tone.

“Please, Dally.” Y/N said in a pleading tone. Dallas let out a sigh as he looked back at her pleading eyes. “What do I get in return?” Dallas asked her. “After dinner we can go back to your place and have some fun of our own.” Y/N told him as she put one of her hands onto his thigh looking at him with a flirty look in her eyes.

“Deal?” Y/N asked softly rubbing her hand up and down his thigh. “You got a deal, cutie.” Dallas said as his lips curved up into a smirk.

The hold she has on this boy.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sunday night came a lot faster than Y/N wanted it to. Y/N took Dallas shopping, so he has something nice and sophisticated to wear for the dinner.

It was almost seven which meant Dallas should be showing up to the Valance household any minute. Her mom was in the kitchen finishing up with the food and Cherry was in the dinning room with their dad setting up the table. Y/N was sitting in the living room waiting for Dallas.

She could feel her nerves pacing through out her whole body. No matter how hard she’s tried to calm herself down, nothing worked. Y/N has never been this nervous before in her entire life.

When she heard a knock on the door she quickly stood up from the couch and walked over to the door. When she opened the door, she saw Dallas standing there tugging on the sleeves of the white button up shirt he had to wear. Y/N pulled him inside by his arm and shut the door.

“Where is the tie I got you?” Y/N asked him in a stern tone. “I’ve never had to dress up like this before! I don’t fucking know how to tie a fucking tie!” Dallas told her with frustration in his voice. Y/N smacked him on the arm which made him let out a whine. “Watch your mouth! If my parents hear you use that language my dad will throw you right out the door!” Y/N told him still using the stern tone. “Okay, geez.” Dallas said rubbing the spot she hit.

“Come on.” Y/N said taking his hand and guided him into the dinning room. “Dad, Dallas is here.” Y/N said getting his attention. “Dallas, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Mr. Valance said holding his hand out for Dallas to shake. “Yes, nice to meet you, too, sir.” Dallas said letting go of Y/N’s hand to shake Mr. Valance’s hand. “Cherry, you know Dallas.” Y/N said to her little sister. “Yes, welcome to our home.” Cherry said with a fake smile on her lips.

Mrs. Valance walked into the room holding a tray of lasagna. “Dallas! Welcome!” Mrs. Valance said in a kind tone as she put the lasagna down onto the table. “Thank you for coming.” Mrs. Valance said with a kind smile. “Thank you for inviting me.” Dallas said with a small smile. Y/N nudged his arm with her elbow. “Mrs. Valance.” Dallas added.

“Sorry, Dallas is really nervous.” Y/N told her parents. “It’s okay to be nervous.” Mrs. Valance said giving Dallas a look of reassurance. “Yes, meeting the parents is a big step.” Mr. Valance added to what his wife said. So far so good.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As the dinner went on everything was going as planned. Y/N did most of the talking than Dallas when her parents asked him questions. Her parents didn’t seem to notice but Cherry sure did. Everyone finished eating so that’s when Y/N was going to say her and Dallas are going to head out but before she could open her mouth Cherry asked Dallas a question.

“So, Dallas. How did the greasers feel when you told them you were leaving the group?” Cherry asked him. Y/N looked over at Dallas who just looked at her with blank expression. “Cherry, I don’t think Dallas wants to talk about the greasers.” Y/N told her with a stern look in her eyes. “But why not? It should feel good to not have those bums holding him back.” Cherry said pretending to act confuse. “Cherry!” Y/N said in a warning tone in her voice.

“You made the right choice, Dallas.” Mr. Valance told him jumping in on the conversation. “Everything those greasers do is a waste. They don’t care about anything but themselves.” Mr. Valance added. Y/N looking over at Dallas who was doing everything he could to keep his mouth shut. She saw him clench his hands into a fist.

“How about we change the subject.” Y/N said but of course Cherry didn’t listen. “Why? Dallas should be proud of leaving a group that are nothing but worthless scrubs.” Cherry said finally striking Dallas’s last nerve. “Fuck this!” Dallas snapped as he stood up and walked out of the room. “Dallas!” Y/N said quickly standing up and followed him.

She followed him outside to his car. “Dallas! Don’t leave!” Y/N said. Dallas stopped walking and turned around to face her. She saw the anger in his dark colored eyes. “Give me one fucking reason why I should go back in there.” Dallas said with nothing but anger in his voice. “Because you promised me you would do this.” Y/N told him which made him let out a scoff. “So, because I promised you it’s okay for me to sit in there and let your sister and dad talk shit about my friends and I.” Dallas said still angry. “Dally-” Y/N started but he cut her right off. “No, you know what. If you want to keep putting on this good girl show for your parents that’s fine but I’m not. I’m not changing who I am for no one.” Dallas told her in a stern tone.

Y/N just stayed silent as tears started to form in her eyes. Dallas got into his car and started it up. Y/N watched him drive away with tears slowly making their way down her cheeks.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was now the next day and Y/N was supposed to be in school, but she skipped so she could go talk to Dallas. Y/N walked to the Curtis brothers’s house where she saw Ponyboy and Johnny in the yard talking. Obviously, they decided to ditch school as well.

“Hey guys.” Y/N said getting the young greasers attention. “Is Dallas here?” Y/N asked them in curious tone. “Yeah, he’s inside.” Ponyboy answered her. “We’ll go get him.” Johnny told her and walked inside the house with Ponyboy behind him.

After a couple of minuets Dallas walked out of the house with a cigarette in his mouth. “What are you doing here?” Dallas asked her taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “I told my parents the truth about you. I told them I broke up with you before you left.” Y/N told him. “Is that why you’re here? You here to dump my ass?” Dallas asked her with annoyance in his voice. “Fuck no!” Y/N told him in a stern tone.

“I don’t give a shit if Cherry and my parents think that you are a heartless bum. That’s not how I see you.” Y/N said taking his free hand into hers. She was nervous that he was going to pull away from her, but he didn’t. “In my eyes, you’re the man I am hopelessly in love with.” Y/N told him staring up into his chocolate brown eyes.

This is the first time she’s confessed to him that she loves him.

“I’ve never said this before, but I love you, too.” Dallas told her as his lips curved up into a smile. Y/N leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Want to go back to your place? I haven’t given you your side of the deal.” Y/N said as lust filled her eyes. Dallas smirked as he put out his cigarette. He picked her up bridal style which made her let out a giggle. He gave her his answer without even saying a word.

[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.

[magma-frog0]

Dallas x Fem! Reader

TW: Cursing, Yelling, Kind of toxic, cheating behavior, angsty.

Readers Pronouns: You,Yours,Your

Word count: 832

You were at a party at Buck's. Your boyfriend practically dragged you there. He said it would be fun, but it isn't. Because all you can see is some girls flirting with your boyfriend. It made your blood boil watching him bathe in the attention all the girls gave him. He didn't even make an effort to try and get them to stop, he just let them touch him and flirt with him. It made your stomach turn; he was watching you too. It wasn't that he was unaware that you knew he was flirting, it was almost as if he wanted you to have a reaction. He wanted to see your blood boiling, knowing that he was talking to other people. You didn't know why he was acting like this, but you couldn't take it. The last straw was when he let a girl sit on his lap, all of it was happening in front of you.

"Oh, fuck this," you whispered to yourself. Walking to his room, packing yourself a bag. You couldn't stay with him after watching him do that. You heard someone barge in the room.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing?" Dallas asked, closing the door behind him.

"I'm leaving! You are such a prick!" You yelled at him trying to push him out of the way of the door.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asked angrily standing in front of the door, keeping you from leaving.

"Don't act dumb! Ugh- It's either that you're really drunk! Or you're just fucking stupid!" You practically screamed at him. He stared at you in shock, he's never seen you so pissed off. Sure, you got mad sometimes, but never to the point that you were yelling or screaming.

"Well, I guess I'm just stupid, because you sound like a crazy bitch right now!" He yelled back, snatching your bag from your hands and throwing it on the ground.

"You are unbelievable! Did you know that? You can't just act like you weren't just flirting with other bitches! Right in front of me!" You yelled at him trying to get the bag he threw.

"You're fucking crazy!" he yelled at you, slamming his fist into the wall almost putting a hole in it. "I'm just doing what you did to me!" he yelled louder.

"I didn't do shit to you!" Tears started to well in your eyes. It was just too much; you had no idea what he was talking about, you loved Dallas. He was very difficult to deal with, sometimes talking to him felt the same as talking to a brick wall.

"And you call me the dumb one! You know what? I can't deal with this right now. I'll be back in 15," he left, slamming the door as hard as he could without breaking it while he left. You knew he'd be back; he doesn't leave you for more than 20 minutes. He was just mad, you kept thinking about what he had said.

"What the hell did he mean by 'I'm just doing what you did to me'? Did I do something to him?" You were pacing around the room talking to yourself when he came back in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and cologne.

"Okay, are you ready to talk about this?" He asked slowly, closing the door behind him. Walking past you and sitting down on the bed you shared.

"You were down there flirting with other girls, not even to mention that you didn't even try to hide it from me. You were doing it right in front of me Dallas," you explained. Trying to keep yourself from crying, not because you were sad, but because you felt betrayed.

"Doll, I was just jealous. I didn't think it would hurt you this bad," he explained. Grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him.

"How were you jealous? I didn't do anything to make you jealous," you asked sitting down next to him,

"You were talking to some guy at the DX. It got me pissed, he got too close to you," he said furrowing his brow. "Look hon, I really didn't mean to hurt you. You know I would never try and hurt you," he said softly, pulling you into his chest.

"I didn't know I was flirting with him!" You exclaimed, falling into his embrace.

"I'm sorry hon. I was just mad, and I let it out on you. I won't do it again, okay. I won't ever do something like that again," he reassured you.

"Dal, I don't want to go back to the party," you said quietly laying down on his chest. Getting comfortable on his bed.

"We don't have to doll, it's okay if you want to sleep," he whispered to you quietly. He looked down to see you asleep on his chest. "How could I ever hurt a pretty girl like you," he said to himself before falling asleep holding you.

[quizzicalwriter]

i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧

Mercy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!

Word Count: 3.4k

You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.

Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.

You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.

One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.

You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.

“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”

You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.

Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.

After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.

“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”

“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?

“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.

You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.

“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”

The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.

“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.

As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”

You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.

The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.

“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”

All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”

He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.

You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.

His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.

He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.

“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.

The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.

The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.

“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”

You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.

You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.

“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”

The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.

The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.

Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.

“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”

You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.

The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.

You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.

“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”

You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.

You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.

The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.

“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.

“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”

You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.

He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”

You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.

“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”

“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”

He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.

“It is funny.”

A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”

[lilyxlovelyy]

Hi lovely! I’d love to see you write a one shot of Dallas Winston smut with hyper fem reader. Maybe they could be at bucks and making up for lost time bc Dally just got out of jail? Thank you 😊

Dallas x hyper fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, p in v, oral f receiving, breast attention, very slight daddy kink hehe, don’t think there is anything else but idk

• Authors note: Hiii i am so glad u asked this cause i have been looking for inspiration and i love this idea!!

About 1k words.

You were over at the Curtis house because dal was supposed to be in jail for another six weeks so you had been spending some extra time there.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t live without dallas it was just that after a few months you have grown to miss him, his voice, his touch, everything about him you craved more than ever.

The gang was all over watching movies, playing cards, eating all of Darry’s food and such when suddenly Twobit noticed a special someone walking up to the house.

“Hey, YN you might wanna see this!” He said watching out the window so you got off the couch and peeked out from behind the curtain.

Your eyes widened when you saw Dallas walking up the driveway with a cigarette between his fingers. You quickly scrambled out the door running as fast as your legs could carry you until you were safely in his arms.

“Woah there princess” he said with a chuckle his New York accent shining through, you just giggled in response while still holding onto him. As he He slung his arms around you he felt the heat and wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Miss me that much, huh’” he grinned before finally pulling away from the hug.

“Yeah…” you mumbled softly with a cheeky smile.

“Well lets take you home and take care of that shall we”

“aren’t you going to say hello to the guys?” You asked softly and he shrugged

“eh they’ll see me later” he grinned and began walking back down the street so you quickly followed after him.

When you had made it back to bucks there was a party going on, you could tell by the red lights glowing from inside; but the party didn’t bother you because you both went straight up to his room not caring to say ‘hey’ to anyone.

He shut the door behind him and made sure to lock it securely.

Once the door was locked you latched you hungry lips onto his. The taste of cigarettes and prison food clung to his lips but you didn’t care, all you cared about was him. Finally being back in his arms.

His rough hands roamed over your body until he laid you down on his bed. He swiftly pulled your little dress down over your head carelessly throwing it away before moving his hands to your breasts. Groping and squeezing them. As little moans slip from your mouth. he grins and rips off your bra.

“Fuck I’ve been dreaming of these tits for months.” He smirks before leaning down and taking one in his mouth and sucking hard.

You entangled your fingers into his scruff hair. As you tug on his dark locks he scraps his teeth against your nipple. As he continues to suckle at your nipples you moved one of your hands down to your clothed cunt and rubbing hard.

“Aww baby you want daddy to touch you?” He smirks and you looked up at him with a soft whimper escaping from your lips.

He moves his hands down your body, over your hips and finally tracing his finger over you cunt.

“Your soaked doll” he growls as he peppers kisses down your neck which earns a moan from you. He slowly slips a finger inside your wet heat feeling the juices run down his finger. He doesn’t waste time to add another finger pumping them in and out at a fast pace. Your mouth is ajar as he continually pumps them in and out making moans spill from your soft lips.

“You gonna cum babydoll?” He asks as he peppered soft kisses over your soft tummy.

“Mhmmmh y-yes” you whimper as he roughly shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“Good girl” he whispers quietly as you cum over his fingers. He brings his fingers to your lips

“taste yourself baby” he smirks and you waste no time to wrap your mouth around his two fingers and suck off the sweet taste of your juices.

He smirks before pulling his fingers out and moving them to your hips. He grins before burying his face between your thighs.

“I gotta taste you first” he mumbles before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.

“Fuck I missed this” he groans against your dripping pussy making vibrations course through your body earning another whimper from you. as he lapped his tongue over your clit before digging his tongue back into your hole.

“Mhmmmh fuck” he groans, his voice muffled by cunt.

“Ohhhh I’m cumming again” you cry out and wrapped your legs around his neck pulling him closer. If that was even possible.

He rarely gave oral but he missed you so much he needed to taste you right from the source. As you came he licked it up with his tongue tasting all your sweet juices.

Once he caught his breath he quickly pulled away and moved his hands from you down to his jeans. He unbuckled his belt with ease and threw it aside along with his jeans.

You stared at his cock with lust in your eyes. He gave it one stroke before lining it up with your cunt and thrusting in. He was never the type of guy to go slow or really take his time but especially not now, he needed you and he needed it now.

He continues his rough assault on your pussy as your screamed out in pleasure. He bent his head down to roughly kiss and bite at your neck.

As you got closer to yet another orgasm he brought one of his hands down and started to rub your aching clit which sent you over the edge to extreme bliss.

As you pulsed around his cock he could feel he was about to cum.

“Fuck are you on the pill” he asked between grunts to which you simply shook your head so he swiftly pulled out and came all over your chest.

He collapsed beside you.

“Oh fuck” you breathed.

Your heart was pounding against your chest but Dallas wasn’t finished with you as he carried you to the bathroom.

[2knightt]

「 she’s barbie and he’s just ken! 」

IN WHICH—the gang is the ken to readers barbie!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ barbie is reader. reader is barbie. go watch barbie NOW.

Johnny Cade ;

you were sweet, pretty, understanding, and somehow always had a good hair day.

you were smiling every time someone saw you, grinning from ear to ear. everyday was a good day for you.

while johnny was quiet, timid, not a good person for comfort at times and always had grease in his hair.

johnny cade only ever had a good day when y/n l/n acknowledged him.

you were walking down the streets of Tulsa, waving to everyone who said hi—which seemed like everyone.

“hi, y/n!”

“y/n!”

“how are you, y/n?”

you waved at each and every one of them, saying your own little greeting each time.

you flashed your famous smile, making johnny weak in the knees.

even though he was sitting, he felt like he still needed to sit down.

you were close to the bench where he and dally were sitting at. johnny was obviously nervous, wiping the sweat off his palms onto his jacket.

dally saw how his friend was getting anxious at the sight of you and instead of ignoring it or talking to him about it—he decides to tease him.

“hey look, johnny. ‘s your girlfriend.”

he mumbles, his new york accent coming out at the end. he points to you, making it obvious they were talking about you. he nudges johnny, pushing him over slightly.

johnny smacks his hand down, making sure you didn’t see anything.

“she ain’t my girlfriend, dal! cut it out.”

he says, quickly and in a hushed voice. his eyebrows furrowed, glaring at dallas.

johnny was about to say some snide remark, but that was before he saw you in his peripheral vision.

he turns his head to face you fast—so fast, dallas could’ve sworn he heard his neck crack.

“he-hey, y/n!”

johnny shouts, his voice cracking. he mentally scolded himself for being such a loser.

you look over to the voice just to see johnny sitting on a bench with dallas. johnny lifted his hand off his lap slightly, trying to wave.

you smile at seeing him, you always liked johnny. you wave to him just like you did the rest.

“hey, johnny!”

you greet before walking away without a second thought.

johnny felt a 10 pound weight released off his shoulders at hearing his name.

johnny wasn’t in a good mood earlier but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t smile more after that.

Dallas Winston ;

y/n l/n. the girl that made the sun envious with her smile, the girl that made everyone want to be her, the girl everyone knew.

dallas winston, the boy that was hand in hand with the devil himself, the boy who was in and out of the cooler, the boy that everyone knew.

y/n always had a good day. you just gave off that aura that surrounded everyone in peace.

dallas never had a good day. sure he’s had okay days, but good was pushing it.

he only has a good day when y/n talks to him.

dallas had stumbled his way into bucks bar, a black eye and a bloody nose.

he knew buck was throwing a party tonight and it seems that whenever a party has booze, two-bit is right there.

he tripped over his own feet searching for two-bit. he found him, sitting on the couch with you sitting right beside him.

you were giggling as his friend smacked his knee, absolutely dying at his own joke. dallas felt like dying when he seen how well the two of you got along.

two-bit glanced around the room, locking eyes with dallas. he shot up out of his seat, rushing to his friend.

you followed his gaze and saw dallas all beat up. you didn’t know the guy well but, you still worried for him.

you walked over to them, two-bit shaking his friend by the shoulders.

“don’t die on me, dal! don’t follow the light!”

“shut up and stop shakin’ me, will ya?!”

you let out an breathy chuckle as two-bit gets off dallas.

dallys eyes shift towards your direction and his eyes widen at the sight of you.

he grins, raising his chin like he doesn’t have dried blood all over him.

“hey.”

he says, his thick new york accent more obvious than before.

you smile, waving at dallas. you knew who he was, you’ve seen him around and heard all the rumours.

“hi!”

his lips were slightly parted, his eyes moving up and down—obviously checking you out.

he was about to say something else, probably something not so kid friendly. two-bit had shoved his shoulder, causing dallas to stumble back.

two-bit has a firm grip on his friends shoulders, spinning him around to the exit. your new friend looks over his shoulder as he guides dallas away.

“bye, y/n!”

“bye!”

two-bit leans in close to dallas, snickering.

dallas kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“what was that ‘bout? freezin’ up when seein’ a pretty lady? tsk tsk, how unlike you.”

“shut up.”

maybe dallas did freeze up when seeing you, or maybe it was just shock that a bad day finally turned into a good day. all because of y/n.

how embarrassing.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you always shined. people surrounded you all the time just to be around you. you were popular, everyone knew that.

ponyboy wasn’t outgoing but he wasn’t all that introverted either. he had the gang and that was enough for him.

but sometimes his eyes would wander towards where you and your friends were and wish he was over there with you, holding your hand.

ponyboy only had a good day when y/n invited him into stuff.

yeah, ponyboys had his fair share of good—even great days. but nothing like when you ask him to join you and your friends at the drive-in.

darry had gotten on ponyboy about his snide remarks during an argument, leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

dally, johnny and ponyboy were walking into the dingo. dallas was talking about this broad he picked up last night while johnny and pony exchanged judging looks the longer dally went on.

the second they stepped in, they heard giggles and laughs in a booth seat. they sat at the counter, the old stools squeaking the second they sit.

ponyboy wanted to know who was having such a good day while his was absolute shit. maybe he could feel better about himself if it was one of dallas’ broads. he knew loads of embarrassing stuff about them through dally.

he leaned his elbows on the counter, slightly raising himself above his seat, trying to catch a glimpse.

that’s when he made eye contact with you. you were looking around the restaurant and just so happened to see ponyboy, looking like a weirdo.

he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

you grinned, standing up in your seat. it’s been a long while since you’ve seen pony, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

“pony! come ‘ere!”

you shout, waving your hand. all your friends had turned to look at him. he got nervous, his palms started to sweat. there were some of the toughest greasers with you, so he thought they’d laugh at him.

they just grinned or gave a poor excuse of a smile to him before continuing their own small conversation amongst each other. he figured no one could really be mean with you around.

ponyboy got up out of his seat, his heart beating out of his chest. dallas was whistling as he got up with johnny trying to make him shut up.

when he made his way over, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stood infront of the table. everyone was looking at him again, tough looks on their faces now.

you flashed your famous smile and ponyboy’s body relaxed, getting a small, awkward smile on his face.

“are you busy friday?”

you ask, eyebrows furrowed. you were leaning on the table now, trying to get a good look at him.

he shook his head no, excitement filling his body. he felt butterflies in his stomach at hearing you ask that.

“good! i was wondering if you wanted to go to the double movie that night with me and my friends?”

a pink hue was now on ponyboys face. he could feel it and he knew you could see it.

he smiled, grinning from ear to ear. he put a hand behind his neck, rubbing it out of embarrassment. he looked away, not being able to meet your gaze with such a nerdy expression.

“yeah. i’ll go.”

he answers, finally looking back at you. the other greasers now with smiles on their face, yours sticking out to pony.

“cool! i’ll see you then, alright?”

you say your goodbyes, leaning back into the seat. suddenly—everyones small conversations didn’t matter anymore. everyone focused on you as ponyboy walked away.

the dread, anger, and annoyance in ponyboys body seemed to evaporate after speaking with you.

he kept thinking about friday, friday, friday. he was so into his thoughts, he didn’t hear dallas’ teasing or johnny telling him to shut his trap.

ponyboy’s terrible day turned into a good one in the matter of seconds. all because y/n invited him to go watch movies.

Sodapop Curtis ;

y/n l/n was a pretty lady. it wasn’t a secret. sure, she had other dudes interested in her but none too special.

y/n l/n was kind, had a one of a kind sparkle in her eye, and was that girl you could take home to mom.

sodapop curtis was that pretty boy all the girls talked about, the cute grease, the one you could—also—take home to mom.

they’re basically the same person. so, nobody was really shocked when they noticed that soda’s grin was wider whenever y/n came around the DX.

sodapop only has a good day when y/n comes around to buy a pepsi.

today at the DX was slow. yeah, there were a few customers here and there. no one worth remembering, though.

until you walked in. you had a small smile on your face—the one you always had. you payed no attention to sodapop at the register and immediately went to the drinks.

sodapop shot up immediately, his back straight and chest puffed out. he pretended to be checking himself out in the window, trying to act cool as you walked up to the counter.

“is this all?”

he asks, after pretending to be the coolest dude on the planet. all that, just so you can think about him in a positive light. soda knows you see the good in everyone but he wanted to be the one to stand out.

he wanted you to think of him the way he thinks of you.

you nod your head, smiling as you pull out your wallet.

soda stops you, pushing the pepsi bottle closer to you.

he leans on the counter, his elbows supporting his weight. he looks up at you, grinning. you looked down at him, lips parted and eyes wide.

“it’s on the house.”

you grin from ear to ear, putting your wallet back. you were about to grab your drink before stopping yourself. you put your hand on the space next to it, resting it there.

“really?”

“totally.”

soda confirms, tilting his head. you flash a smile, teeth and all before grabbing the drink.

you thank him, rushing to the door. before leaving you look back at him, waving goodbye. sodapop gets off the counter and waves back, the smile never leaving his face once.

once he knows you can’t see him anymore, his whole body relaxes. he exhales, a pink hue adorned on his ears.

soda slams a hand on the counter, the other hand on his knee as he bends down. he’s acting like he’d just ran a marathon when in reality—he just talked to you.

his boring old day turned into a good day. a day he can look back on before he goes to bed.

Darry Curtis ;

you were kind to people you don’t know, talkative, calm, and children like you.

darry’s quiet, aloof, calm in a scary way, and children cry when he stares at them for to long.

darry knows of y/n, just like how she knows of him. they don’t know each other to say they’re friends, though.

but it seems that every time y/n offers darry something—his terrible day turns into a good, bearable one.

darry’s never one to incline more on his day rather than just saying ‘it was okay,’ other than those days. then it’s, ‘pretty good.’

it was real hot in tusla and unfortunately for darry—he was roofing houses today. he had no water, no shade, and a black shirt on. as if his luck couldn’t get any worse—he worked past his lunch break.

you were walking to this cute place you and your friend had set up to meet when you walked by the house with some unfortunate man working. he was sweating, panting, and looked like he was dying.

you felt awful about it and you looked for some sort of solution to help him. that’s when you remembered the water in your bag. you were saving it for later but—you can always buy another.

“hey, mister!”

darry hears a shout from below. he turns his head and looks down, meeting your gaze. he immediately feels, well—humiliated. he’s sweaty, not in the best clothes, and is probably beet red.

he puts his tools down, shoving his hands into any sort of pocket he can find. he stuck his hand into his nail holder and regretted the choice.

“yeah?”

you raised the water bottle up, extending your arm. you shook it a little. you’re on your the tips of your toes, trying to show darry the bottle better—just incase.

darry tried to focus on the bottle but his attention shifted from it, to you. even though tusla was the temperature of the sun, you didn’t have a hair out of place, outfit absolutely perfect.

“do you want it?!”

“sure!”

he agrees, nodding his head. you toss the bottle up, praying that the throw wasn’t too long or too short. darry caught the bottle with ease, not even batting an eye.

the coldness from the bottle shocked darry at first, but nonetheless—he spun the cap open and started chugging the drink.

you stood there with a smile, happy to help. darry took the drink away from his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he looks back at you, a small smile on his face.

“thanks!”

“you’re welcome!”

you shout, walking away while waving. darry watched as you walked away, admiration filled his eyes.

it seemed like the water bottle was a good luck charm, the wind started to pick up, the sun moved to the perfect spot, and eventually—he stopped sweating.

when darry got home, soda was the first one to ask how his day was. he opened his mouth, ready to say, ‘it was okay,’ until he stopped himself.

he looked down at the crumbled and empty water bottle, thinking of you.

“pretty good.”

Steve Randle ;

y/n was understanding, nice, pretty, and hated violence in anyway.

steve was rude, loud, and always found himself in fights—verbal or physical.

no one really knows how the princess like y/n heard of steve randle. but it happened and no one can really stop it now.

steve found himself in a cycle. one day he could have an okay day because the tuffest car came into the DX or he’d have a bad day, a rude customer ruining it.

he only ever has good days when you come around to fill up for gas.

steve and soda were outside, cooling off. they were talking about god knows what before the coolest car pulled into the DX drive way. it went to the gas pumps, the two boys watching it intensely.

steve smacks sodapops shoulder—telling him to get inside so the person can pay. soda kisses his teeth and rolls his eyes, walking towards the entrance of the store.

steve looks back to the car, seeing you pumping gas. he felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs when he saw it was you.

he spun around, facing a window. he’s focused in on his reflection, looking for any food stuck in his teeth or a hair out of place. when he snaps back into reality, he sees soda laughing at him on the other side.

steve flips him off before walking away. he walks towards you, stopping right beside you. you look over to see steve, admiring your car. he had sparkles in his eyes the longer he looked at it.

you smile, giggling to yourself. he looks over to you, a small pink flush on his cheeks.

“tuff car you got, ms.”

he mumbles, shifting around. by this time, your gas tank was full. you took the pump out and put it back.

“thank you.”

you say, grinning. you begin to make your way to the DX, ready to pay for gas. you’re stopped in your tracks with a hand on your shoulder.

steve wanted to talk to you more, so he couldn’t just let your attention be drifted away so soon. he wipes off any dirt on his hands onto his uniform before stopping you from moving any further.

you look over your shoulder, looking at him with curious eyes. you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed.

“it-it’s free. on me.”

he stutters. mentally—he’s beating himself up about how stupid he was for stuttering. his eyes shift from meeting yours to the ground.

you grin, who are you to decline free stuff? let alone gas. excitement was obvious from your expression to body language. seeing you this happy made steve smile—just a little though.

“seriously?”

“yeah.”

he answers, trying to seem cool and collected as if he didn’t just stutter 10 seconds ago. he lets go of your shoulder, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he raised his chin, acting nonchalant.

you chuckle to yourself. what’s so bad about this steve guy anyway? you think to yourself.

“well, thank you.”

you say, walking towards your car door. steve rushes to it before you, opening it before you can even get the chance.

he, himself didn’t even know why he did it. he just did. his hand gestures to the inside of your car, telling you to get in.

your lips are slightly parted, eyebrows raised. you smile, flashing your teeth as you get in your car—thanking steve once more before driving off.

soda ran out of the store, cackling like a hyena at steve. he didn’t pay any mind to his best friends teasing, his mind was only filled with you.

sure, the ac in the DX stopped working, sure he had a nasty run in with several customers today. but you made it all worth it. he’d be willing to do it all again if it meant he could retry you guys formally meeting, without stuttering.

Two-bit Matthews ;

y/n was known all around. you were that girl. you were sweet, pretty, a good listener, and pretty funny.

two-bit was also known all around. not for the same reasons, no. not in the slightest. two-bit was snide, can’t sit still, always has to voice his opinion, but also—funny.

two-bit has some days that are better than the rest, without a doubt in his mind. but anything that sticks out? hell no.

two-bit matthews only has a good day when y/n l/n laughs at his jokes.

two-bit was sitting in a car with a bunch of his bar friends. all the windows were rolled down to drown out the smell of booze in the vehicle.

he was making jokes left and right, his friends hollering without a care that the cars on opposite sides of them could hear.

“then—the poor bastard tries to hit me but winds up with a black eye, from his own fist!”

he howls, almost falling out of the car window because he was laughing so hard.

you and your friends were one of the unfortunate cars beside them. your friends were groaning and complaining. on the other hand, you found it rather amusing. you rolled down your window just in time to hear the end of his story.

you laugh to yourself, finding the way he tells stories endearing. two-bit heard a laugh that wasn’t obviously from any of his buddys—too cute of a laugh.

he looks to his right, seeing you laugh at his jokes with your window rolled down.

two-bit stops laughing and starts admiring you, your smile, your hair, you. you were just—wow. you look back at the car beside you, wondering why the man isn’t saying anymore jokes.

you meet his gaze, embarrassment replacing all emotions. your lips tighten as you look down, trying to play it off.

two-bit snickers to himself, finding you interesting. he leans out the window, half his body left inside the car.

“hey, pretty!”

he shouts, grabbing your attention. you smile, waving back to him. your arm was out of the window, attached to the door of the car.

“you must have some humour to ya if you’re laughin’ at my jokes, huh?”

he teases, laughing out loud. he looks down at the grass as he continues to find his words absolutely hilarious.

“well, i like to think so.”

you respond, letting out a breathy chuckle. even though you didn’t find his words as funny as he did—his laugh sure did make up for it.

“if you think ‘m so funny, why don’t we hang out sometime, eh?”

two-bit offers, a giant grin on his face. you smile at his question and just as you were about to answer, your friend cuts you off.

“like hell she would, two-bit!”

they shout before driving off, obviously pissed off at his antics and jokes. you stick your body out the window, waving goodbye to two-bit.

he waved back as he watched the car you were in disappear. yeah, he was sad you left. but shoot, knowing y/n thought he was funny was the brag of the century!

two-bit had a terrible hangover the next day. he wished he could say he regretted drinking that much, but he really can’t.

because you turned a night he should regret into a night he’ll remember.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

can you please write something angsty about dally helping out darry after discovering how stressed he is or maybe finding him crying

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, but here it is. Gonna tag @chained-sweater and @johnnyburntcake because they both asked to be tagged when it was finished after reading my out of context snippet. As with most of my stuff this is unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes or typos

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Dallas Winston needs a lot of things. His boots are held together with duct tape and about fourteen different layers of mud, his jeans are worn, torn, patched, and torn again, and his number of material possessions is probably something less than twenty- he never had much in the first place and he pawned just about everything he had when he ran from New York five years ago. But despite all the things he is lacking, all the things he’s never had and the things he could use, what he wants most right now is a fucking break.

Dammit but he didn’t think moving out to rodeo country would involve caring so much. His gang back in New York had been a proper gang- more organized and even crueler than Shepards outfit, a group of tough as nails dealers and muscle, who’d just as soon shoot a kid as they would give them a chance. Hell, he’d been scared of them back in the day, for all he’d been smarter than most of them, because that kind of casual violence only came from the joy of hurting something, not from necessity. Only an idiot wouldn’t be scared of those sorts of people. Here though, in sleepy little Tulsa Oklahoma his gang is…a drunk, a dropout, two high schoolers, one recent high school graduate, and tagalong middle school kid- and yet, Dally finds himself far more loyal and goddamn committed to the ragtag group of big hearted losers than he ever was to old Alfie and his ring of coke dealing miscreants. It’s maddening. It’s wonderful. It’s horrible. It’s tiring is what it is, and Dally needs a goddamn break. Who wouldn’t after the night he’d just had, which involved practically dragging a nearly hypothermic Johnny Cade out of the cold and trying to warm the kid up? And as if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d then had the dubious honour of driving Ponyboy to school this morning. Something about the kid’s zombielike stare and hunched shoulders had left him thinking of how bright those eyes used to be, just three months ago, which led to him thinking of Mrs. Curtis’ stern demeanour but kind face, and it was all just too much. Dallas needs a break. He wasn’t meant for this sappy caring shit. He’s done his mourning- he doesn’t need to be knocked all off kilter because of two kids who think of themselves as gangsters but in reality are nothing more than battered kids, bruised in different ways. This is the problem, Dally has found, with gangs that are more family than function- they’re made of people instead of parts of a machine. You can’t care about someone who is replaceable- but no one in the Curtis gang is replaceable, not by a long shot. That wasn’t the case back in New York.

Whatever. He’s done thinking about this now. He’s going to go back to the Curtis house and watch shit tv and maybe steal some food if the kitchen doesn’t look too skint this week. He is not going to think about kids who aren’t his problem (and yet completely are because he’d joined this stupid excuse of a gang and made them his problem in the first place), and he is going to stop being so fucking soft. Geez. If Tim could hear his thoughts right about now he’d lose just about all his street cred. 

Of course, because he’s Dallas Winston, and life has never thrown him a fucking bone in all seventeen years of his life on earth, his hopes for a peaceful afternoon are dashed the second he steps through the door. 

Darrel Curtis- six foot two, two hundred pounds of pure muscle, cool headed Darrel Curtis- is parked at the worn kitchen table, head in his hands, a water bill and something Dally is reasonably sure is property tax forms sitting in front of him.

 And he’s crying.

Darry Curtis doesn’t cry. In all the time Dally has known him, he’s never seen the guy so much as sniffle- not even at the funeral three months ago when Darry buried both parents in one horrible day. Soda had broken down immediately, and Pony had stared wide eyed, rivers of silent tears pouring down his cheeks- but Darry hadn’t. He’s crying now though, and not just a little bit either, huge gut wrenching sobs tearing from his mouth and shit Dallas doesn’t really know what to do. What he wants to do is pretend he never saw this, pretend it never happened and leave, let Darry have his well earned breakdown in the solitude he clearly believed he had. Of course, he would have had to have the foresight not to slam open the screen door for that to even be a possibility.

Darry jumps at the noise, shoulders squaring immediately, letting out one last sob that he could easily explain away as a gasp of surprise as he regains his barings. 

“Oh,” He clears his throat, valiantly trying to pretend like his eyes are bloodshot and his stubble covered cheeks covered in tear trcks, “hey Dal. There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

In that second he sounds so much like his mother that it punches Dally in the chest a little bit. Something about the ocean of feelings quickly locked behind a kind word and a carefully controlled expression is so reminiscent of Mrs. Curtis that Dally almost finds himself nodding a yes and escaping into the kitchen. He can’t though, because as much as Darry acts like her, he will never be his godlike mother. Instead, he is his kind hearted self, a twenty year old with the custody of two kid brothers he couldn’t bear to be separated from, and all the pressures of adult life most people don’t even start having to worry about until they’ve had time to really live. Mrs.Curtis had taken care of all of them, even Dally when everyone else only ever looked at him as a lost cause. Darry can’t do that though, can barely look out for Soda and Pony. Anyone with eyes can see how he’s been struggling since the funeral, nevermind the way Soda’s endless energy has turned anxious and resentful, grades slipping, while Pony gets quieter and moodier, a thirteen year old ticking time bomb. 

“You stay outta trouble for me Dallas,” Mrs. Curtis said to him once, “I know you ain’t a good boy but you’re a loyal one and sometimes that’s more important. So don’t go gettin’ yourself locked up for a bit, savvy? My boys need you more than they know.” 

She hadn’t just been talking about Darry, Soda, and Pony. The whole gang was Mrs.Curtis’ boys and everyone knew it, but Dally had held those words close to his heart more times than he could count, a balm on his perpetually blackened soul. Mrs.Curtis had known the score, known that goodness wasn’t the same thing as love, and she’d loved him anyhow- unconditionally and more than his own sorry excuse of a mom ever had. She’d trusted him too, never babied him or tried to fix him the way every other adult was always trying to, just patched him up when he got into trouble, and scolded him for not being smarter. You wouldn’t have survived this long if you were stupid Dallas, so don’t go pullin’ a stunt like this again. C’mon and git some dinner now, there's casserole in the fridge.

It would break her heart to see Darry like this now, so small and defeated, two things her eldest son was never meant to be. But she isn’t here right now, never will be again.

But Dally is.

My boys need you more than they know.

Damn Mrs.Curtis and her all knowing ways, because she knew what she was doing when she took him in because now he’s stuck with this stupid gang in this stupid town forever because she made him love her and love them all too.

“What’s goin’ on Darry?”

“Nothing,” Darry lies, fingers twitching a bit to pull the papers closer to him.

“I ain’t Soda, you don’t gotta lie to me like that.”

Shame twists his handsome features and he looks down, fidgeting with his high school ring.

“I don’t got enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Money Dallas,” he snaps, “I don’t get my first paycheck from that new job until next week, and both these are due on Friday. I bought groceries yesterday, and paid the hydro on Monday, no matter what I’m short.”

There’s such fear in his eyes. Dally remembers what the social workers said when Darry got custody, how militant they’re going to be checking up on him. One missed bill could have Soda and Ponyboy taken away before any of them could cry ‘unfair’.

My boys need you more than they know.

Dally can’t let that happen. It would kill Darry, Soda might go full crazy and Ponyboy…the kid was already sensitive. He’d never make it in a boy’s home. 

“How much?”

“What?” Darry blinks at him and Dally rolls his eyes. Darry Curtis has never been stupid, so he doesn’t know why he’s acting stupid now. 

“How much money do you need?”

“Four fifty.”

Dally winced. That was more than he had on him right now, more than he could get from Two-bit and Steve if he asked on the down low. None of them ever had that kind of scratch just lying around- unless Steve’s dad had recently paid him to come back home, but the old man had booted Steve out two days ago and chucked a bottle at him yesterday when he went back to grab spare clothes so they probably weren’t back to playing happy family yet, and likely wouldn’t be for  while.

Still. There’s other ways to get money.

My boys need you more than you know.

“Leave it to me.” Dally promises.

“No.” Darry shoots him down immediately,  “It ain’t your responsibility Dallas-”

“It ain’t all yours either.”

“That’s exactly what it is!”

“Are we a gang or not?” Dally glares, “I know you Curtis boys are wicked at acceptin’ help but like it or not you need it right now! I ain’t watchin’ the state take Soda an’ Pony away because of your fucking pride Darry!”

Darry stares at him a moment, eyes hard before he sighs, shoulders drooping, suddenly looking the same type of bone deep exhausted that is becoming an all too familiar look on him. 

“Just…don’t do anything illegal, ok? The boys can’t handle you bein’ locked up right now.”

For some reason the words sting. It’s true the gang’s all been a wreck since the Curtis parents died, but Dally is under no illusions as to his place in their ragtag little group. They survived well enough before him, and they’ve survived every time he’s been in the cooler since knowing them, and it won’t be any different if he gets locked up now.

He must have scoffed or something because Darry glares at him. “I mean it.”

Whether he’s talking about the gang needing him or about him not doing anything that could get him into trouble with the cops, Dally doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. Instead, he turns on his heel, a plan already forming in his mind.

Buck Merril is just about the most pigheaded cowboy Dally’s ever met in his life, but he’s always running about half a dozen money making scams at any point in time, and he jumps anytime Dally offers to help because he gets stuff done and keeps his trap shut good. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, working for a guy he hardly likes and doesn’t respect, but money is money and Darry needs money desperately right now so he swallows his pride and asks Buck what needs doing.

He ends up two towns over, at a rickety trailer park off the main road, two kilos of smack stashed under the seat of Buck’s car. He makes the drop, bullies the buyer who wasn’t willing to cough up Buck’s agreed upon price, and ignores the way his stomach twists at the way he just gave someone else the very thing that destroyed his sister’s life, a million years ago back in New York. 

Buck claps him on the shoulder when he gets back. Dally shoves him off, takes his cut of dirty money, and leaves before he can punch someone. 

Warm light spills out the window of the Curtis house when he gets there. Ponyboy is leaning against Johnny on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky, Johnny murmuring something to him that the kid doesn’t seem to be really hearing. It’s frightfully domestic and frightfully sad, the bruise on Johnny’s cheekbone almost black in the dim evening light, Ponyboy looking so skinny and tired Dally has the urge to tell him to go to bed. He doesn’t of course- it’s not his place, and Pony isn’t his brother. Instead, he ruffles both kids' hair as he passes them, tells them to get inside so they’ll have enough folks for a round of poker, and goes to find Darry.

Darry’s in the kitchen, scrubbing purple mac’n’cheese off a saucepan when Dally finds him. He watches for a minute, sees the tension in Darry’s broad shoulders, the viciousness in the way he’s scrubbing the pan. Desperation, Dally knows Is all consuming, bleeding into every thought, every action, every facet of life. For all he’s a different kind of desperate, Darry Curtis is as desperate now as Dally himself is.

He spares a quick glance over his shoulder. Johnny and Pony have trooped inside, the latter robotically shuffling a deck of cards, while Soda and Johnny chat quietly. Steve is flipping through channels on the radio, and Two is nowhere to be found. None of them so much as glance at the kitchen. Good.

“Dar.” 

Darry jumps, turns. 

“Glory Dal, scare a man to death, why dontcha!”

He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t my fault you weren’t payin’ attention. Here.” He holds out an envelope, and Darry’s eyes light first in understanding, then in hope.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be offerin’ if I wasn’t.”

“Dal…”

“Take it,” He shakes the envelope, “before the others see.”

Hesitantly Darry reaches out, but as soon as his hands close around the paper he all but snatches it from Dally’s hand.

“Dal…I…thank you. I can’t tell you-”

“Whatever man,” Dally can feel the discomfort that comes anytime he is thanked or treated half decently raring in his chest, “I told you I’d take care of it and I meant it.”

“I’ll never be able to repay you for this.”

“It ain’t a loan, it’s just helpin’ out.”

“That’s not what I- nevermind,” Darry shakes his head, mouth twisting in a rueful half smile, “There’s dinner in the fridge, I made sure Soda saved you some.”

Dally fixes himself a plate, glaring down at pasta that was never meant to be purple, and he and Darry join everyone else in the living room. Johnny grins when he sees him, scooting closer to Ponyboy to make room on the sofa, and Steve steals the cards out of Pony’s hands to start dealing, having finally found a station playing half decent music. 

Dally eats his dinner and plays poker, pretending he doesn’t care half as much as he does when he loses. He wins half of Soda’s cigarettes and quickly loses them all to Johnny, pretending the feeling in his chest isn’t softer than anything he usually lets himself feel.

These boys don’t know it but they need him more than they know, and he’ll keep them safe. For Mrs, Curtis, but for himself too. 

After all, he’s always been a selfish bastard. 

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

gone like him

@sparklingcid3r got me in my feelings about Darry's feelings after Dally's death so I wrote a fic about it <3

Darry didn’t usually have nightmares. He slept fitfully after their parents died and barely slept at all while Ponyboy was missing. But he never had nightmares. And then he watched Dallas Winston be gunned down just feet in front of him. 

Darry had seen so much violence in his life. Being a greaser made sure of that. He’d seen broken bones and faces so beaten he couldn’t recognize them. None of it even compared to watching Dally’s body jerk as bullets riddled his chest. 

The cops had turned to the five of them and for a split second, Darry was certain that they would open fire on them and there was nothing he could do to protect what remained of his gang, his brothers. 

But they hadn’t. 

Darry’s dreams weren’t as merciful. 

In his nightmares, he watched his boys be shot. He saw Steve lying on the ground, a pool of blood haloing his head. He saw Two-Bit leaning against the curb, trying in vain to stop the blood seeping from his stomach. He saw Soda with bullet wounds in his chest, but alive enough to sob and scream as he cradled Ponyboy’s lifeless body. 

Two-Bit and Soda looked at Darry. Their eyes were filled with fear. “Darry-” Soda gasped through a sob. His eyes lifted above Darry’s eyes. 

With a trembling hand, Darry reached up and felt a bullet hole in his forehead, hot blood weeping down his nose. 

Darry jerked up with a gasp, drenched in sweat. It took him a moment to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Darry dragged a hand down his face. That nightmare had been plaguing him for the better part of two weeks. Every few days he would wake up with a gasp, the image of his gang full of bullets lingering in his mind.

At this point, he knew there was only one way to get back to sleep. He threw his blankets off and padded into the hallway. Soda and Pony’s bedroom door was cracked open so he nudged it open. 

The two boys were sprawled out, legs thrown everywhere in ways that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Soda was snoring. God, he loved them so much. In the moonlight, he could see Pony’s eyes blink open and find him in the doorway.

“Darry?” He asked, lifting himself onto his elbow. 

“Hey, Pone,” Darry sat down on the edge of the bed next to his baby brother. He reached out and pulled the blanket up around Pony’s shoulders as he laid back down. “Just checkin’ on y’all.” 

“Nightmare?” 

“Yeah.” Darry gave up lying about it a few days ago. All three of them were struggling after losing Dally and Johnny, it didn’t help Soda or Pony if he was hiding how he was feeling. “Just needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“Soda keeps kickin’ me,” Pony mumbled. Darry chuckled. Then Pony met Darry’s eyes sincerely. “Are you okay?”

Darry nodded, “Go back to sleep.” Pony snuggled back down into his blankets, making Darry hold back a laugh as he kicked Soda’s legs off of him. Darry just sat there for a few more moments. He watched Soda and Pony’s chests rise and fall evenly and listened to Soda’s snoring. Whatever tension was left from his nightmare dissipated with each passing moment. 

When he finally was able to pull himself from his brothers, he padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. As he extended the cup under the faucet, Darry noticed his hand trembling something awful. 

With the glass barely filled, he set it to the side and leaned over the sink. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced deep breaths. But with closed eyes, all he could see was Soda and Pony, lying in their bed, the sheets stained with blood. 

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He turned on the faucet and splashed some water on his face. He was going fucking crazy, he was losing his mind. He just saw the two of them in bed, he knew they were safe and unharmed. But his racing heart didn’t trust that.

“Darry?” 

He turned around to see his brothers standing in the doorway. They were both bleary eyed, but were looking at him with concern. Fuck. 

He turned back to the sink and looked down at the water slipping into the drain. “Go back to bed, y’all.” Darry’s hands were clenched on the edge of the counter top, knuckles white. “It’s late.”

“We know,” Soda’s voice was so fucking gentle, as though he was afraid of spooking Darry. He felt his brother’s hand on his back.

“Pone, you didn’t need to wake him up,” Darry told them, still not looking up.  “I told you I was okay.”

“No, you didn’t,” the smartass said. “You just told me to go back to sleep.” Darry felt Ponyboy nudge up against him, but he couldn’t bear to look at him. There were tears in his eyes, he couldn’t let his brothers see. 

Of course, Soda didn’t like that one bit. He pulled on Darry’s shoulder and turned him around. Darry found his brothers looking up at him with those damn puppy eyes. Soda hugged him tight around the middle, Ponyboy quickly following suit. 

There were a lot of things Darry liked about being big, but the best one by far was his ability to hold both his brothers at once. Tears slipped from his eyes. 

“You’re okay,” Ponyboy murmured, mimicking Soda’s usual words of comfort. 

After a long, long moment, Darry pulled back and looked at the two of them. “The same dream?” Soda asked. 

Darry leaned back on the counter and took a drink from his forgotten glass of water. “Yeah.” He’d confessed the contents of the dream when Soda had woken up to find Darry sleeping on the floor of their bedroom. “But like I said, I’m-”

“You’re not fine,” Pony said sharply. For the first time that night, Darry really looked at his little brother. There was more than just worry, there was fear. His lip trembled ever so slightly and then he repeated quietly, “You’re not fine and I’m sick of you pretending that you are. None of us are fine, Darry.”

Soda squeezed Pony’s shoulder in reassurance, “He’s right.” Darry moved to drag a hand down his face, but Soda caught his hand and put it to his chest, right where the bullet holes were in his dream. “We’re not fine, but we’re together and we’re here. And we’ve got nothing if we can’t lean on each other.”

Under his palm, Darry could feel Soda breathing. He could feel his brother’s blood flowing through his veins. And he let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry.” Tears brimmed in his eyes, he reached out and put a hand on Pony’s chest as well. Pony gripped his wrist, holding his arm in place. “If I were to lose either of you, I-” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. He hated the waver in his voice. 

“It’s my worst nightmare,” Pony said softly. He glanced between Soda and Darry shyly. “The-the worst dreams I have are about losing either of you, both of you.”

Darry pulled Ponyboy into an embrace. He didn’t know how to be comforted, but he had learned how to comfort his brothers, that he could do. So he kissed Ponyboy’s head, “We ain’t going nowhere.”

“Damn right,” Soda agreed, but he was looking at Darry, not Pony. 

Darry swallowed thickly, “I love you both, so goddamn much.” 

“Enough to go back to sleep?” Soda teased, poking Darry. 

Darry chuckled and ran a hand over Pony’s head absentmindedly. “Yeah, alright. You two get back to bed, I just need some air.”

“No.” Soda grabbed Darry’s bicep and Ponyboy’s hand. 

The two of them pulled Darry into their bedroom and bullied him onto the bed. They each curled up on one of his sides before he could even try to sit up. The three of them barely fit in the bed together, but none of them cared. 

Darry could feel Pony’s breath on his arm. The pulse point on Soda’s wrist was pressed to Darry’s hand, there was no doubt it was intentional. Even though he was already sweating with the two of them in bed and that Pony and Soda definitely needed to clean their room, Darry got the best night sleep he’d had in weeks.

[babydollitzel]

Hi Itzel! I absolutely adore your theme! Could you make a one shot of how Dally would be on his and fem readers anniversary? Thank you 😊 💕

𝐎𝐡, 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x Reader

warnings/extra; shitty writing and a very tiny hint of soc!reader, also sorry if there’s any mistakes!

˗ˏˋ ꒰a/n꒱ ˎˊ˗ hey guys I’ve been feeling so lazy lately but I’m back! I also have a ton of reqs right now and I will be getting to all of them so if you sent a req and I haven’t responded don’t worry♡

Surprisingly, today was you and Dallas’s dating anniversary. It was surprising since Dallas hadn’t been in a relationship long enough to even reach an anniversary, so he didn’t really know what to do.

Because of that, he decided to get some help from the gang, asking them for ideas. And to be frank, he wasn’t fond of any of them. From Darry’s old fashioned ideas to Two-bit’s just down right stupid ones. That was until Sodapop, probably the most romantic of the group, brought up the idea of taking you to the place where you and Dallas first met, the drive in.

Where he had pestered you until you were just about forced to pay attention to him. Kicking your chair, getting all up in your space, sweet dirty talking you, etc. At first you didn’t want much to do with him knowing his reputation and all but you were getting pissed at his antics and just gave in, who knew you’d end up where you’re at now, getting ready for you and his anniversary.

You were currently sitting at your little vanity, getting all dolled up. You’d put on a cute dress and even did your hair and makeup. You were spraying on the last spritz of perfume when you heard a car honking rapidly outside, most likely Dallas messing with you. You checked yourself in the mirror one last time before rushing to the door and opening it, going towards his borrowed car from Buck and getting in the passenger seat.

Dallas eyed you as you climbed into his car. He loved seeing you dolled up for him, it made him feel just a little cocky that you were his. He playfully whistled as you shut the door to the car, his eyes lingering on the dress you were wearing. “Hey doll, you look nice.” You couldn’t help but blush at the compliment and the way he was staring at you. Even after all this time of dating he never failed to make you feel flustered. “Thanks.” You said, as you buckled your seat-belt “Sooo..where are we going?”

You had specifically gotten all dressed up like this since you were hoping to go somewhere nice like a diner. Although you’ve known Dallas for a while now, so you didn’t make your expectations too high. Dallas smirked at your excitement and leaned back in his seat. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, pretending to ponder over where to take you. Even though he already knew damn well where he was taking you.

“You’ll see when we get there, alright?”He teased. You let out an annoyed huff, of course, he wouldn’t tell you where you’re going. He was always secretive about these types of things, probably because found your pissed off expressions amusing, so gave up on the topic and turned to look out the window, watching as the scenery passed by you. Dallas had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.

As a few minutes past the car eventually came to a stop. To your dismay, it was only the drive in. You thought about how you got all dolled just for the date to be at the drive in. But it’s the thought that counts. Besides, you thought it was pretty sweet that he took you to the place where you first met.

Dallas looked over at you, not oblivious to your disappointment. “You don’t like it?” He teased, an amused look on his face. He could tell you weren't exactly ecstatic about the location, but he wasn't surprised, everyone knew that the drive in was the cheapest, but still a sweet date in town. “No it’s not that I don’t like it I just…” You paused, trying to figure out a way to say it without sounding rude. Your eyes wandered your surroundings before looking at Dallas, you weren't sure if he was purposely trying to get a rise out of you or genuinely wanting to know what's up, knowing Dallas it was probably the first.

"It’s just, I thought you’d take me somewhere nicer, especially since it’s our anniversary." You confessed as he walked you both to an empty row at the back of the drive in, and sat down next to eachother. Some movie playing on screen at the front. Dallas chuckled, clearly enjoying that he got some sort of reaction out of you.

“What’s more special than the place where we first met?” You couldn’t fight the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. It was pretty sweet when you really thought about it, you gave it an A for effort. “Fair point,” You said as you watched him start taking off his skull ring.

“Hey I have somethin’ for ya” As an anniversary gift, he had decided to give you his ring. You’d expected a pretty necklace or some flowers atleast but you took what you could get from him. You smiled as he slipped it onto your ring finger. “Really? You’re actually giving it to me?”After Sylvia, he’d been hesitant to give his ring to another girl again, so you were grateful that he trusted you enough to give it to you.

“Yeah” Dallas shrugged. “We’ve lasted this long, figured it was about time I gave it to ya”He said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side as you two sat there. You leaned your head against his shoulder, resting it on the crook of his neck. “Thanks, but I can’t believe you even remembered our anniversary” You commented, your eyes watching the movie on screen.

Dallas chuckled as he fiddled with a strand of your hair. “Give me more credit than that” He mumbled. “Of course I remembered.”You smiled warmly at that as you and Dallas continued to sit there, watching the movie in silence. You were just glad that you both managed to make it this far, especially with a guy like Dallas. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie, just in your thoughts, basking in the presence of your boyfriend.

[thewulf]

A Safe Place || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - Can you do a Dally or Darry x female reader where reader is having a really difficult time at home (mom and dad are kinda like Johnny's parents and beat up physically and mentally on reader?)... Read Rest Here

A/N: As long as I live I will forever write The Outsiders. Such a unique group to write. This one is tough but I really love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Johnny Cade Sister)

Word Count: 3.3k +

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

As you stumbled through the door of the Curtis household the entire greaser gang turned to look at you. Their expressions shifting from surprise to concern in an instant. Dally was the first to react, his eyes widening in realization as he took in the extent of your injuries.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Dally's voice was gruff but there was an underlying edge of worry as he approached you. His movements were surprisingly gentle as he took in your battered appearance. His usually stern expression softened which revealed a glimpse of the concern that lurked beneath his tough exterior.

You could feel the weight of their stares. Their unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. It was clear that they were shocked by the state you were in, and the realization only made you feel more vulnerable. Because for as bad as you felt you just knew you looked 10 times worse. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time he didn’t seem to want to stop.

"I-I... I had a run-in with my old man," you managed to choke out. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fought to hold back the tears brimming at the edge of your eyes. You’d done so good escaping it was suddenly catching up to you what you had just gone through. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. A painful reminder of the nightmare you couldn't escape.

Steve's jaw clenched tight with anger as he took in your bruised and bloodied face, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "That bastard," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with rage. "He’s gonna pay for this, I swear."

Dally's expression darkened at your words. His features contorted with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "I'll kill him," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to contain the rage simmering just beneath the surface. His words hung heavy in the air as it was a promise of retribution that sent a shiver down your spine. The scary part was that you knew he would kill him given the chance. It was one thing with Johnny… but when he saw you so battered he found a rage not even he knew he had.

Instinctively you flinched at his declaration. The raw intensity in his voice triggering a flood of memories you wished you could forget. You had already endured so much, the wounds—both physical and emotional—still fresh and raw. The thought of more violence only served to deepen the pit of dread that churned in your stomach. Sure, you grew up with the greasers but it never made the violence and threats of it any easier.

As if sensing your reaction Dally's eyes softened with remorse. A pang of guilt flickering across his features. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering uncertainly over your shoulder before finally making the gentlest contact. He was afraid of the bruises underneath your clothes, the ones he couldn’t see. "Hey," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his earlier words. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For all his tough exterior there was a vulnerability in Dally that few ever got to see. A glimpse of the boy beneath the cocky attitude that he showed all too often. As you looked into his eyes you saw not just the anger and the pain, but also the deep-seated compassion that he tried so hard to conceal. His presence was a balm to your battered soul. A reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.

Dally's sharp gaze hardened as he turned to the group just staring at the scene unfolding before them. "Get the hell out of here if you ain’t gonna be useful," he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "Give us some space guys." The rest of the gang exchanged uneasy glances before nodding in agreement, understanding the need for solitude in such a vulnerable moment. With one last look of concern, they filed out of the room leaving you and Dally in a cocoon of quiet solidarity.

As Soda made to leave with them Dally stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. "Soda, wait," he said, his voice softer now, filled with urgency. "Get the first aid kit and a warm towel. We need to clean her up." Soda nodded in understanding, a determined look crossing his features as he hurried off to retrieve the supplies.

As Soda hurried off to retrieve the supplies, Dally turned his attention back to you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Hang in there, sweetheart," he said softly. His voice laced with reassurance as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "We'll get you patched up real quick."

You managed a weak smile. So grateful for his comforting words amidst the raging emotions swirling inside you. Despite the pain and the fear that still lingered there was a sense of relief knowing that you were in capable hands. You were being taken care of the boy who cared deeply for your well-being.

A knowing smile just ghosted over Soda's lips as he returned with the first aid kit and a warm towel. He was silently acknowledging the unspoken bond between you and Dally. He knew how much Dally had loved you for so long. And seeing the two of you together now filled him with a bittersweet sense of pride. He’d never seen Dallas so gentle.

With practiced efficiency, Dally and Soda set to work cleaning and dressing your wounds. Their movements gentle yet purposeful as they tended to each cut and bruise with care. Dally's hands were surprisingly gentle as he worked. A stark contrast to the roughness you had come to expect from him. However, even he wasn’t perfect. There was a moment when Dally accidentally pressed a little too hard on one of your bruises causing you to let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Instantly his expression shifted. A look of sadness crossing his features as he realized his mistake.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he murmured. His voice filled with genuine remorse as he gently pulled back, his hands hovering uncertainly over your injured skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be more careful, I promise."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes. It was layered with a depth of emotion you hadn't seen from him before. A stark reminder that beneath his tough exterior there was that vulnerability he tried so hard to conceal. You saw not just the pain and the regret in his eyes but also the profound sense of care and affection that he held for you.

"It's okay, Dally, really" you reassured him, your voice soft as you reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I know you didn't mean it. I’m so lucky to have you."

His gaze softened at your words. A small flicker of gratitude passing between you as you shared a moment of understanding. Despite the rough edges and the scars that marked his soul there was a gentleness to Dally that few ever got to see. A side of him that he reserved for those he held closest to his heart. A side that only seemed reserved for you.

With a nod of appreciation Dally resumed his careful ministrations. His touch lighter and more cautious than before. And as he worked to tend to your wounds with a renewed focus, you couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for the boy who had always been there for you. Always, no questions asked.

As Dally apologized profusely and you reassured him, Soda noticed the exchange between you two. Sensing the depth of emotion in the room he took a step back giving you and Dally a moment of privacy. There was that knowing look in Soda's eyes, an acknowledgment of the connection between you and Dally. With a subtle nod Soda retreated to give you both some space. His intuition telling him that this was a moment that needed to be shared between just the two of you. As he busied himself with tidying up the first aid supplies before exiting the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth fill his chest for the two of you.

Once Dally finished tending to your wounds with careful precision a flood of emotions washed over you. Threatening to overwhelm your fragile composure. The physical pain had subsided only to be replaced now by a tidal wave of raw emotion that surged through your veins like a raging river. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to contain the torrent of feelings that threatened to consume you. It wasn't just the pain of your injuries that brought you to tears, but the weight of everything you had endured, the fear, the loneliness, the relentless cycle of abuse that had plagued your life for so long.

You cried for your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. Your Johnny. You cried for the father who had betrayed your trust as his fists rained down upon you with a cruelty that knew no bounds. But most of all you cried for Dally, for his unexpected gentleness and the overwhelming sense of safety and comfort that he had provided in your darkest hour.

As you sat with Dally in the quiet intimacy of the room you felt a sense of release wash over you. A cathartic release of pent-up emotion that had been building inside you for far too long. And as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks you knew that you were not alone. That you were loved and cherished by the one person who had always been there for you, offering his unwavering support and understanding in the face of adversity.

As your tears flowed Dally's heart ached with a depth of emotion he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge before. Without hesitation, he shifted, pulling you fully onto his lap, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that was so different than his tough exterior. His arms wrapped around you protectively creating a safety that enveloped you both.

He rubbed soothing circles on your back. His touch a comforting reassurance of his unwavering support. In the quietness of the moment, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement. His voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room.

Feeling your sobs intensify he tightened his embrace. His hold on you was firm yet gentle as if trying to absorb some of the pain that wracked your body and soul. With each shuddering breath you took he squeezed you tighter. His touch was a silent reassurance that he was there for you. He would never let you face your demons alone.

"You're safe now, sweetheart," he murmured. His breath warm against your ear. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Let it out. I'm here for you."

His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not alone in your pain. With each gentle stroke of his hand against your back, he offered you solace and understanding, his touch a silent promise of his unwavering support.

"It's okay to cry," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room. "I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you again, I swear it."

His heart broke for you, for the girl he cared for more deeply than he dared to admit. In that moment, as he held you close, he wished he could take away all the pain and suffering you had endured, to shield you from the cruelties of the world with nothing more than his love.

As time passed your sobs gradually subsided leaving behind a lingering sense of emptiness and exhaustion. In the quiet aftermath of your tears, you took a shaky breath. Your chest still tight with emotion. Dally held you close.

Feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear you found solace in the warmth of his embrace. With a heavy sigh you finally found the strength to speak. Your voice trembling with the weight of the words you had kept buried deep within your heart.

"I miss him," you spoke. Your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke of your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. "I miss Johnny so much it hurts."

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, threatening to spill over as you thought of your brother who had been forced to run away. His pure innocence stolen by the cruelty of the world.

"I miss the way things used to be," you continued. Your voice filled with longing as you spoke of a time before your father's descent into darkness, before the alcohol and the violence tore your family apart. "I miss when my dad wasn't a drunk, when he was still my dad, you know?"

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the innocence you had lost, of the life that seemed so distant and foreign now. In the safety of Dally's embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.

As you spoke of missing Johnny, Dally's embrace tightened. His arms offering you a sense of strength and stability amidst the chaos of your emotions. His voice was gentle as he responded. His words a quiet reassurance in the face of your pain.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "We all miss him. But you know Johnny, he's resourceful as hell. And with Pony by his side? Those two can handle anything."

There was a quiet conviction in Dally's voice. It was a steadfast belief in Johnny's resilience that offered you a glimmer of hope in the darkness. Despite the uncertainty of his fate, you found comfort in Dally's unwavering confidence. He was a reminder that you were not alone in your worries for your brother.

"And your dad..." Dally trailed off, his voice heavy with sympathy as he spoke of the man who had once been your protector, now reduced to a shadow of his former self. "He's not the man you remember, I know. But that ain't your fault, darlin'. None of this is."

His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not to blame for the sins of your father, that you deserved love and happiness just as much as anyone else. In the safety of his embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.

But even as the tears continued to fall, you knew that you were not alone. That Dally was there for you and always ready to offer his unwavering support and understanding in the face of your pain. As you clung to each other in the quiet darkness you found solace in the simple act of being together.

As your emotions opened you realized your love for him wasn't triggered by a simple moment. But rather by a complex series of events that had been building up over time. It was the culmination of countless conversations, shared moments, and lingering glances that had slowly but surely chipped away at the walls around your heart.

It started with the little things. Like the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh or the way he would brush a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that took your breath away. It was the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning, the whispered confessions and shared secrets that bound you together in ways you couldn't explain. But it was also the bigger moments. The ones that left you reeling with emotion and uncertainty. There was a time you called, and he showed up at your door in the middle of the night. No questions he was there as his face drawn and tired, and you knew without a doubt that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

As you looked into his eyes and saw the depth of his feelings reflected back at you, something shifted inside you. It was as if all the pieces fell into place like a puzzle finally coming together after years of searching. And in that moment, you knew. You knew that you couldn't keep it to yourself any longer, that you had to tell him how you felt, no matter the consequences.

So, you took a deep breath. Steeling yourself for what was to come, and you let the words spill from your lips in a rush of emotion. It was messy and imperfect, but it was real. It was true. And it was exactly what you needed to say.

"I... Dally, I just... I don't even know where to start," you began. Your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the right words. "But I can't keep it in any longer. I think... no, I know I... I love you. Like, really love you."

Your admission hung heavy in the air, a confession so raw and honest that it left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. But as you looked into Dally's eyes, filled with a mixture of surprise and tenderness, you knew that you had made the right decision to speak your truth.

"I know it sounds crazy," you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. "But it's true. You've always been there for me, through thick and thin. And it's not just because you're always there to clean up my messes or protect me from the world, although you do a damn good job of that. It's because... because I genuinely care about you, Dallas Winston. I care about you more than I ever thought possible. And it scares me sometimes, how much I care."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you bared your soul to him, laying your feelings bare for the world to see. But as you spoke, a sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you had finally spoken the words that had been weighing on your heart for so long.

"And I know it's a lot to take in," you concluded, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

For a moment, the air felt thick with anticipation. The intensity of your confession hanging between you like a tangible thing. And then as if a switch had been flipped, the hardness in Dally's eyes melted away. Replaced by a warmth that seemed to radiate from deep within him.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth gradually blossoming into a grin that lit up his entire face. It was a grin like you'd never seen before. A grin that reached all the way to his eyes filling them with a light you hadn't realized was missing.

His fingers brushed gently against your tear-stained cheeks. His touch tender and affectionate as he cupped your face in his hands. There was a sense of wonder in his expression, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening, as if he had never dared to hope for this moment.

"Damn, sweetheart," he breathed. His voice tinged with awe. "I never knew you had it in you. Talking like that. But I'm glad you did. Because, hell, I love you too. I always have."

His words sent a rush of warmth through you. A feeling of elation that bubbled up from deep within your chest. And as you looked into his eyes, shining with a happiness you had never seen before, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, something real and true and utterly perfect.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[outsidersheadcanons]

>:)

dallas.

Dally Winston Cursed Headcanons :)

To begin. He is so fkin nasty you guys have no clue. When he first started hanging out w/ the gang they actually had to BULLY him into being hygienic and showering

It's not that he can't either. It's a decision 😭

Someone once said that he wore his underwear inside out when it got dirty in my asks. That's true btw

(movie and book) Dally got ALL of his dating advice from his father when he was a kid (who literally told him that if girls run away from you it means they like you)

One time he got so startled by a spider in the bathroom at Buck's place he shot it. With a gun. Buck was mad as hell

He sleeps in the nude 💀

Dally is also the biggest gatekeeper ever. He hates it when people like stuff (modern) he'd be the kinda guy to be like "name 5 songs 😡" when he sees someone wearing a band shirt. He would also hate on anyone who liked anything "mainstream"

When he used to go to school he'd EAT his tests if he got bad scores on them (and so did Steve and Ponyboy, coincidentally)

[thewriterg]

♡︎make it up to doll♡︎

Pairing(s): Dallas Winston x Fem!reader, Johnny Cade x Fem!reader, Ponyboy Curtis x Fem!reader, Dallas Winston x Cherry Valance

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Dally always had ways of getting under your skin and one day he realized he might’ve went to far and could loose you he questioned himself. But it’s Dallas Winston he’ll always have a way of getting back on your good side —kinktober day; 1—

Warning(s): face sitting, fingering, f receiving, praise!kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, jealousy, mention of a weapon, and language

A/n: It’s October!!! I wanna make sure I complete kinktober completely so If you have some ideas send them over ;)

“Red, Hey Red I’m talking to ya” Dallas called out to the redhead Soc who had previously acted as if the brunette hadn’t existed before she made a sharp turn to face his direction

They were all at the drive-in which Dally had invited you to after telling you blatantly that if you had paid a quarter to get in instead of hopping the fence like a ‘normal person’ he’d gut you like a fish which you had responded with a roll of your eyes and hanging up in the delinquents face

“What do you want hood?” Cherry harshly questioned while Dally barely cracked a smirk it was something about getting under people’s skin that just made him feel content but getting under yours to see you eyebrows scrunched and your nose shoot up made him feel absolute euphoria

“I need a favor” He responded his NewYork accent running deep with a mischievous gleam in his eye and he couldn’t figure out if the redness from the girls face was from the fact she couldn’t stand him or she couldn’t hate him but he could care less either way

“What makes you think I would help you” She scoffed shaking her head at the Greaser who looked down at the girl in pure amusement

“Because.. I’ll leave you alone if you do” Dally began to pull a cigarette from out his pocket closing the box as soon as he opened it cursing to himself at his sparking lighter

“We both know that’s not true Winston” The red head scoffed in anything but amusement rolling her eyes for the seemingly the hundredth time In a ten minute time frame the two teen’s stared at each other for a moment before Dally shrugged his shoulders he was stubborn Darry always said that’s mostly why you two bumped heads so much but in the end you couldn’t stay away from each other

“Fine, You’re real lucky I feel nice today… Now what do you want”

☆☆☆☆☆

“Hey Pone, What’s up JohnnyCakes” You greeted the two greasers who greeted you softly Pony giving you a wave while Johnny gave you a small smile that you had felt special to see

You had sat unknowingly where the delinquent previously had closest to the isle way hands fiddling with the extra fabric in the inside of your pockets while you subconsciously looked around for the six foot leather wearing hood

“So, Where’s Winston?” Johnny and Ponyboy both shot each other knowing looks before looking at the empty seat In front of them next to brunette Soc Marcia

“Think he ran of to the bathroom” Ponyboy answered while you nodded your head in acknowledgment leaning back in Dally’s your seat not noticing the brunette less than five feet away pointing at you with a red head practically attached to his hip

You were all laughing at something stupid one of the main characters said that caused a bud light to get thrown in his face by a offended teen before you could hear low chuckles and heavy foot steps approaching taking a small glance back you were expecting to see a couple who had a little too much to drink or started to forget they were in a public area

What you didn’t expect to see was Dallas Winston with the sociest’ of soc Cherry Valance with her hands resting on his clothed chest while staring up at him with the most dreamy look she could muster while he looked down at her with a small smirk on his face

When Johnny and Pony were no longer getting any reaction from you they couldn’t help but turn to your direction following your eyes that eventually trailed to Dallas and Cheryl. Johnny shifted in seat while Pony softly grimaced at the sight

You had rolled your eyes so hard that if Darry were here he would fuss about them getting caught in the back of your head before you fixed your eyes back on the projector screen

Pony noticed how your leg started to bounce up and down and he remembered his mother saying something along the lines of ‘once that leg gets to bouncing you can’t keep her still for long’ He didn’t know what she meant at first but now he couldn’t understand it any better than he already did

“Hope we didn’t miss too much” Dally and Cherry walked hand in hand up to you all her head leaning on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around her waist while she giggled turning her face into the crook of the hoods neck at his underlying tone the both of you shared glances Dally giving you a fixed nod while you ignored his existence completely

Eventually the pair sat directly behind You, Pony, and Johnny and in less than five minutes they decided to make out seemingly as over obnoxious as possible you started to fiddle with your pockets again your finger tips brushed against the cool metal of your switch blade

Soc’s. That’s one of the main reasons you had the sharp thing it made up at least 70% of the reason and here Dally was after he swore up and down to whoever he could get to listen that he would rather die than go with a Soc his statement seemed invalid, especially with his tongue down her throat

The more you thought about the more you got upset, angry even why would Dally even invite you if he was going to make out with some broad in front of your face and not spare you the time of day You could’ve sat at home in your most comfortable attire and watched your own damn movie but you were here. With the constant sound of sharing saliva in your ear

“You like that hmm?” It was more like a statement than a question while Cherry giggled in a high pitched tone that could make your ears ring before you abruptly stood from your seat the back of your knees pushing your chair back while grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder

“I’ll see you around Pone, Johnnycake” You muttered while the two younger boys gave you an apologetic look or wave before turning around giving the meanest stare they could muster watching Dally’s eyes following your storming steps before he began to follow you while Pony whispered shouted to leave you alone

You were exiting the gate as you felt a presence behind you and you weren’t dumb you knew it was either Dallas or Soc but there were a handful of the West side rich kids and you weren’t looking to get jumped and Dally was to busy with his tongue down some broads throat to even notice your absence

Turning your body abruptly with your switchblade that you pointed directly at the jugular of the Person you’ve came to recognize as Dally mocking fear with his hands up in fake surrender

“What are you gonna cut me Y/l/n” He questioned when you didn’t bring retrieve your knife from his neck while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes before clipping the knife back in its place as you began to walk away

“You know man, you should really stop with silent treatment thing gettin’ kinda old” He followed behind you he knew he was testing your nerves testing how long it would be before you snapped

Dally has at least seen everyone in his life snap at him once and you had been running with him since you nine and you haven’t yet it was almost like he was making it his life’s mission to make you loose it, to make you loose your shit at him at least one time

“Leave me alone Winston” You muttered picking up the pace in your step the DX lit up sign kissing your face along with the occasional street light

“Cmon’ Y/l/n just stay another ho-”

“No Dallas I won’t stay another hour! I’m not going to sit here and watch you shove your tongue down some broads throat CHERRY VALANCE NO LESS! I’m going home.”

Dally’s eyes went wide for a split second he were surprised but how surprised could you be when you finally woke the sleeping bear it was still processing in his brain but Dallas wasn’t new when it came to the topic of jealousy and right now he’d say that’s where you were

This time when you began to start walking Dally grabbed your arm softly putting himself in front of your view of the empty streets while the two of your stared at each other you felt tears pricking at your waterline before you stubbornly wiped them away and then the brunette began to realize just how far he went

“Let me make it up to you” He’d finally broke the silence that loomed over both of you he couldn’t have let you go home with the thought he didn’t care because if he was being honest with himself and pushed away the stubbornness that voided his brain you and Johnny would be tying in the number one spot on the very short list of things he gave a damn about

“Dallas I’m not in a mood to go to the dingo” You muttered but Dally noticed you didn’t make a move to keep walking your trail

“No, no, I mean let me make it up to you actually. Cmon doll you can be mad at me all you want just.. just let me make ya’ feel good hmm?” Dally continued once you shook your head maneuvering his hands to your hips

“Bucks is a five minute walk from here.. let me show you how sorry I am” There was a Moment of silence that passed while the two of you started at each other, comfortable silence at that and that was something rare with Dally before you eventually nodded and it wasn’t your first time seeing a genuine smile from Dallas far from it but it still didn’t fail make you warm inside and you suddenly very grateful for Telusa’s dark streets before Dally began to pull you into his side before walking down the abandoned streets

★★★★★

 

Dally rolled his tongue against your clit as you came again with another sob coming over the sides of his face that rolled down to his chest that was already soaked from your flowing juices while the brunette muttered praises into your cunt

“Please Dal I can’t- I can’t do it I’m done” You sobbed with tears flowing down your cheeks

“You know how to make it stop Doll” Was Dally’s simple response This was at least your fith orgasm or sixth he couldn’t remember he was to happily lost in your count to keep count lapping his tongue around your swollen Bead as your hips buckled deeper into his face

You were hanging by a thread on the peak of another orgasm while his fingers rubbed small circles on your clit you couldn’t begin to verbally explain how overworked and sensitive you were

You know what you needed to do to give your cunt a break all you had to do was say that you accepted his apology but you hadn’t and Dally was willing to go all night until you did

You whined breaking Into another orgasm thrusting your hips upward your thighs squeezing his head while you drip down his chin and he could have a mustache of how you continually dripped down his mouth

You begin to let out a sigh of relief as Dallas started to kiss up your abdomen before beginning to leave scattered marks against your neck and chest while it begins to morph Into a whine as he replaced his tongue with his fingers while you let out a gasp He plunged the sound with his mouth and you tasted yourself on his tongue

For at least an hour Dallas seemingly had a endless amount of determination and stamina to ruin you and you had officially lost track of how long it’d been and how many times you had cum you’d lost track at eight

“Fuck! O-okay Dal I forgive you please” You sobbed into his neck while you hips and legs stuttered

“Cum one more time and I’ll stop. Just one more time doll, you can do it sweetheart” You whined nodding in agreement you were at your peak and beyond high Dally felt you cunt squeeze against his fingers while you came with a loud cry

“You did so good for me doll, So good” Dally praised pushing the hair that stuck to your forehead out of your face tracing shapes against your hip bone while pulling you into his side

While you lied on his shoulder Dally realized he could’ve lost you today and that somewhere in his stubborn brain he would have to realize that he could at any second

Dallas Winston wasn’t perfect but he always had a way of getting on your good side

[navia3000]

f r e s h o u t t h e

s l a m m e r

Includes : Dallas Winston

Genre : Slight angst and fluff

Warnings : Light cursing, mentions of jail, mentions of toxic Dally

Based on : Fresh Out the Slammer by Taylor Swift

A knock on her window startled her from her sleep. She lay still in her bed, her thought process being if she doesn’t answer, they’ll go away. She couldn’t think of anyone who would be knocking on her window at three in the morning. It certainly wasn’t the Curtis boys, Steve would probably be in some car race, and Dally was in the slammer. Unless…

She shot up from her bed, running to her window. Sure enough, Dallas Winston stood outside her bedroom window in all his glory, bruises only just fading from his beautiful face, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Open the window,” his voice was muffled from the glass dividing them. She hurried to open her window, stepping back as he climbed into her room.

Hers and Dally’s relationship was complicated. They were together, but, he liked to act like a tough guy around everyone else, a fact which bothered her to no end. It’s no secret she loved him, she just wanted to know the feelings were reciprocated in public. They argued endlessly over this, his gaslighting only angering her more and more, leading her to break up with him. It hadn’t even been a day when Darry Curtis called her up, letting her know he had been arrested for shoplifting. Again.

And now, here he was. Sitting on her bed and smoking a cigarette.

She broke the silence, “what are you doing here, Dal?” She watched as he took a big puff of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on his boots resting on the bed.

“I had to see you,” he said after a minute. His voice was quiet; he was never one to be vulnerable or talk about his feelings. The way he saw it, he didn’t show his affection for anyone, he couldn’t get hurt. Frankly, she was shocked to see him look so vulnerable and utterly defeated.

“We’re not together anymore. You can’t just come running whenever you’re fresh out the slammer,” her voice was small as she shook her head at him. She was hurting all over again.

“I know, just hear me out, will ya?” His eyes met hers, the sassy tone coming back to his voice for only a moment. “I know I haven’t done treated you right. I’ve been a shitty guy to you, and I regret it. I’m not good with this kinda thing, man, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to express what I feel for you or what you mean to me, ya know?” He stopped to take another drag of his cigarette. “And, I was sitting in that damn cell and I finally realized, I don’t wanna lose you. Damn, I love ya. I don’t know how to be without you, it’s- it’s like I can’t breathe, ya know? I am trynna be better for you, I swear. And if you let me, I’ll keep trying. ‘Cause you mean everything to me. I’m just scared of gettin’ hurt.”

Again, she was extremely shocked. He had never once told her he loved her, let alone that he couldn’t breathe without her. Either way, she knew in her heart, that Dallas Winston was the love of her life.

Without saying another word, she walked over to him and engulfed him in a hug. They held each other tight, reveling in each other’s presence.

Pulling back, she said, “I forgive you, but you have to drop the hard ass act. I want you to actually acknowledge that I’m your girlfriend in public. And not just in a possessive way,” her lips were pulling into a smile.

“Ya got it, doll,” he gave her a rare grin of his own. He pulled her back in, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory. “You better not tell anybody about this, ya hear me?” Her laughter could be heard from miles away.

[millieslibrary]

lucky to love you

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

summary: a damaged delinquent meets an adventurous, fiery young woman at a bar and they fall in love... what happens next?

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): underage drinking, smoking, gambling, fluff, and a pinch of angst

a/n: this is the first fanfic i've ever wrote. i really hope you like it.

It was a warm June night in the city of Tulsa. Cars and glowing business signs illuminated the streets and a soft breeze kept the heat from sweltering. The city was bustling, as families and people of all ages walked up and down the sidewalks, enjoying their Friday evening.

You were sitting at a sticky bar in a hot and heavy room of a place called ‘Buck’s’. A man slid you a glass with an amber liquid. You tipped your head back and let the burning taste of whiskey invade your mouth and spread through your body. This wasn’t your first drink of the night and surely wouldn’t be your last. You smiled at the man behind the counter before getting up from your seat at the bar and sliding past dozens of sweaty bodies to the billiard room.

There, two men stood at the pool table while a few lined the walls to spectate. Immediately, your eyes landed on the man at the far side of the table; 6 feet with gorgeous brown eyes and beautiful porcelain skin. He was a leather-wrapped bad decision.

His eyes came up from studying the green table and landed onto you. You watched him do a double take before his eyes took in your form, looking you up and down. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek. 

“You gonna come in or you just gonna keep blocking the door?”

You smiled at him before taking a step inside.

“I wanna play," you stated plainly.

"Little lady thinks she can play pool," he uttered, half a question and half a statement. The others in the room laughed lightly at that.

"I reckon I can win too," you jabbed back.

He seemed surprised by your conviction. You watched as he smiled to himself. And what a smile it was. You felt your face heat up and butterflies in your stomach at the sight.

"Alright. I'll give you a go once I beat this guy," he said, confidently.

The rest of the game was quick. Your leather-jacket-wearing mystery man was a skilled player, experience exuding from every shot he took. However, even as you watched him take a couple dollars from the palm of his opponent, you felt confident.

You grabbed a stick off the wall and approached the table.

"I hope you're a betting woman," he said.

"Of course," you replied back easily.

"Tell you what," he started, "I'll bet you one dollar that I can beat you in fifteen shots or less."

"Deal," you smirked as you extended your hand to shake.

When he took it, you suddenly became aware of the difference in your sizes. His hand completely enveloped your own.

His fingers were calloused and rough. His knuckles were bruised; you resisted the urge to run your thumb over them. He was warm. You were almost sad to pull away. 

"Does the little lady have a name?" he asked as you rounded the table.

"If you do," you replied as you took your break shot, a striped ball falling into the far left hole.

He smiled again and you felt yourself go slightly weak in the knees.

"I'm Dally. Dally Winston."

You had heard that name before. Unfortunately, word traveled fast in the city of Tulsa; and the name ‘Dally Winston’ was often attached to stories of a no-good, low-down delinquent. But something in you told you not to run away. Instead, you looked up and into his eyes. 

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Dallas didn't beat you in fifteen shots or less. He didn't beat you at all. He rolled his eyes in irritation while handing you a dollar about fifteen minutes after the game's beginning.

"Let me buy you a beer," you offered to which he eagerly accepted.

Dally led you to the bar with his hand on the small of your back, careful not to lose you in the crowd. You bit your lip at the contact.

After using your earnings to pay for your drinks, Dally led you outside. You closed your eyes and breathed in the fresh air. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and gently placed one between his lips. He held the pack out to you and you copied his actions. He scoffed with a smile and shook his head lightly.

"What?" you asked.

"You're one interesting broad," he said, lighting his cigarette.

"What do you mean by that?" you replied inquisitively, lighting your own.

"You smoke, you drink, you play pool"

"I’m sure I’m not the only girl to do those things, Dally."

"And you're feisty. I like that."

You felt yourself smile at his words. You turned to look at him only to see that he was already looking at you. You wished you could take a picture of his face. Perfectly illuminated by Buck’s neon sign and the moonlight, Dally’s hair laid gently over his forehead, his lips parted, gently grasping his cigarette between his teeth. He was dangerously good-looking. You took another long drag off your cigarette.

“I should probably be on my way home,” you said, looking at the ground.

“How far away do you live?” he questioned

“It's maybe a fifteen-minute walk,” you responded. 

“Let me walk you home, you shouldn’t be walking by yourself at this time of night.”

“Aw, does somebody care about me?” you teased, already making your way down the steps of Buck’s porch.

“Don’t go getting a big head about it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You and Dally made conversation the whole walk home. He told you about New York, living at Buck’s, and the ragtag little friend group he made since living in Tulsa. You told him about your family and friends and all your interests and hobbies. You were having so much fun talking with him that you were a little disappointed to see that you made it to your house. It was looking upon your house that suddenly filled you with worry. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Dallas Winston. You quickly came up with a solution.

“Wait here,” you ordered.

You unlocked the door and jogged down the hall to your room. You turned on the light before walking over to your desk and ripping the corner off an unimportant piece of paper, writing your phone number. Then, you reached into your pocket for your lipstick. You reapplied the color and kissed the tiny paper. After looking down to admire your handiwork, you ran back outside to find Dally where you left him. 

“Call me,” you said, placing the note in the palm of his hand. When you went back inside, you watched from the windows as he looked down at the tiny paper and smiled.

That night, you dreamed about Dally. 

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The next day, Dallas found himself at the Curtis house. He laid on the couch, long limbs splayed across the cushions. He tried to ignore the sound of Mickey playing through the TV speaker as he took a swig of his fifth beer.

“Take it easy Dal,” Soda commented as he moved to grab a deck of cards that sat on the coffee table.

Dally ignored him, hand fiddling with the piece of paper in his leather jacket pocket.​​ Truthfully, Dallas was trying to drink away his nervousness; he was scared to call you. What if you were just drunk and last night was just a mistake? What if you didn’t want to hear from him? 

Suddenly, Dally sat up. His eyes found Johnny, who sat on the ground with his back against the couch. Dally grabbed Johnny’s shoulder lightly and nodded toward the door. Johnny seemed to understand as the two stood up and walked toward the front door. 

“You two leavin’?” Two-Bit questioned, remnants of chocolate cake covering his face. 

“Nah man, just going for a smoke. I don’t wanna hear Darry complainin’ ‘bout me doin’ it in the house no more,'' explained Dally.

Two-Bit nodded as the boys exited. Dally immediately reached for his cigarettes, handing one to Johnny. Dally leaned up against the fence as he lit his cancer stick.

“What’s goin’ on Dal?” Johnny asked, almost concerned.

“I- uh- I met this girl last night, man,” Dally confessed.

“Yeah? What about her?”

“I like her. She’s real pretty. With a big mouth on ‘er. She beat me at pool,” Dallas smiled as he remembered the events of the previous night.

“You get some action or somethin’?” Johnny inquired, studying his friend’s face.

“Nah man, we just talked. She beat me at pool ‘nd then I walked her home. She told me to call her but I haven’t.”

“How come?”

Dally took a long drag from his cigarette.

“‘Cause- ‘Cause what if she don’t wanna hear from me, man?” 

Dallas Winston doesn’t get nervous. Dallas Winston doesn’t get scared. Dallas Winston is never vulnerable. But for you, it seems, Dallas Winston cares. Johnny smiles at the thought.

“I’ve never seen you like this Dal,” Johnny can’t help but tease.

“I ain’t happy ‘bout it neither so shut yer trap,” Dally spat, glaring at Johnny.

Johnny laughed a little before taking a drag.

“Just call her. Don’t be a wuss.”

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You had been on edge all day. You eagerly awaited a call from Dally but the phone had yet to ring. Once it had reached 3pm, you were beginning to feel that he was never going to call. You were beginning to feel that the night you spent together meant nothing to him. Your mind stirred with feelings of doubt.

Then, finally, the phone rang.

You scrambled to your feet, taking a deep breath before reaching for the phone. Slowly, you pulled the phone to your ear.

“Hey dollface.”

“Dally?” you cringed at the excitement in your voice.

Dallas laughed and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from squealing.

“You miss me?” he asked, cockily.

“What do you want, Winston?” you joked.

“Ouch. You hurt me, doll. Listen, do you- uh- do you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Sure! What movie?”

“Don’t know. I figure we’ll sneak in and find one of them cheesy ones that chicks like.”

“Ever the gentlemen, aren’t you?” you replied with a roll of your eyes, your smile being heard through the phone, “pick me up at 7.”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

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Dallas waited for time to pass, absentmindedly rolling his St. Christopher between his fingers. He thought of you as he let a puff of smoke escape from his lips. Your smile, your lips, the way your eyes shone when you spoke or just listened to him talk. Your very being plagued Dally’s thoughts. You had an undeniable effect on him. 

As Dally checked himself in the mirror and ‘fixed’ his hair for the nth time that evening, he was disgusted with himself. He had truly never felt so out of control, like a lovestruck schoolboy. Looking in the mirror once again, he scoffed.

It wasn’t you that Dally was afraid of. It was how he felt about you that scared him. For the first time, in a long time, he cared about somebody. Dallas wanted to be close to you. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to be understood by you. He already felt understood by you. Most people didn’t make Dally feel understood. But you did. And that was special.

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Hours later, Dallas arrived at your doorstep. He was excited to see you again. At least with you at his side, his mind could no longer wander and his heart would no longer yearn. When you opened the door to meet him, Dally felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Turns out, you were this beautiful all the time, and your first meeting hadn’t been a happy accident. Dally let out a low whistle as he leaned his forearm against the door frame.

“See something you like?” you questioned, teasing.

“You know I do,” Dally responded with a smirk.

You breezed right past him with a giggle and Dally swore his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

The walk to the Nightly Double was similar to your walk home the previous night, filled with laughter and conversation. There was much to know about Dallas Winston. One of the many things you learned about him was that he was a very good listener. At least when he was with you, he would listen intently when you told a story or voiced your thoughts.

Once you arrived at the edge of the drive-in, Dally slid under the fence with ease, popping up on the other side. You followed after him, Dallas offering you his hand to help you stand up. You took it.

“You look like you’ve done that before,” Dally commented.

“That’s because I have,” you said, dusting yourself off.

Dally’s tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, smiling. You waited for him to let go of your hand but he didn’t; instead, he led you past the dozens of parked cars to the viewing seats. He let go of your hand to swing himself over the railing, taking a seat. You rolled your eyes as you ducked under the railing, sitting down beside him. He gently laid his arm over your shoulders and you smiled. You reached for the pack of cigarettes in your pocket, offering him one. He took it from between your fingers and inspected it, placing it between his lips. You lit his and then your own. Dally took a puff.

“What are these?” he asked.

“They’re cloves,” you responded.

“They’re sweet,” he announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You nodded, making a mental note to find more things Dally hasn’t tried as you found his curiosity utterly adorable.

Your eyes fixed on the large screen ahead of you, taking another drag.

Dallas couldn’t tell you what movie you were seeing. He couldn’t even tell you what it was about. His eyes were on you the whole time. He liked the way your hair shaped your face, the way your eyebrows scrunched when you were worried or confused, and the way you nibbled on your bottom lip. The more time Dally spent with you, the more things he found to like about you. He tried to push away the thought.

“You wanna Coke?” He asked, standing up from his seat.

“Sure,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes.

With that, Dally made his way to the snack booth.

When he returned, he handed you your Coke and lit another cigarette before taking his seat again. You took a sip of your Coke and enjoyed the sweet taste. You looked at Dally.

Looking into the eyes of Dallas Winston was quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. His eyes seemed to tell a thousand stories. Stories of fun and troublemaking; and pain and sorrow. His eyes were ones that belonged to a person who grew up far too fast and knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Still, deep within them, you could see a childlike wonder and mischief. His eyes were cold. But looking into yours, they were soft.

You broke eye contact in favor of leaning your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t see his face from your position. He smiled.

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From that day on, you and Dally were practically inseparable. The two of you frequented the Dingo and the Nightly Double. Days he used to spend with Johnny and at the Curtis house were spent playing cards or poker with you at your house or in his single room above Buck’s bar. Nights he used to spend ‘hunting action’ and going to Buck’s parties alone were spent drinking and playing pool with you. You were Dally’s girl and everybody knew it; albeit nothing much had happened between the two of you. Stolen glances, prolonged eye contact, and his hands on your waist were as far as you had gone with one another. With you, Dallas didn’t feel the need to ask for more. Your presence and good conversation were enough. But everything changed on one particular night.

You laid awake, humming to the sweet melody coming from your record player with a cigarette in hand when you heard a faint tapping on your window. You smiled, putting out your cigarette as you got up from your position in bed. You already knew who it was; there was only one person who would be knocking on your window, especially at this time of night. When you pushed your window open, you were met with, in your opinion, one of the worst sights one could see. Dallas Winston, bloody and bruised, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Dal! What the hell happened?”

You quickly turned off your record player. 

“Rumble,” Dallas replied simply, groaning as he pulled himself through your window.

You shook your head lightly, gazing at him with sad eyes as he sat on the edge of your bed.

“Let me clean you up. I’ll be right back,” you said, sparing him one final glance before you left the room to gather supplies.

When you returned, with a few washcloths and a tub of mildly soapy water in hand, Dallas was looking at the floor. After placing your materials on the ground next to him, you gently grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Did you win?” you asked lightly.

“I always do,” Dally responded, the ghost of a smile on his face.

You nodded, removing your hands from him and dipping a washcloth into the soapy water. Carefully, you brought the washcloth to his face, dabbing at a wound just above his eyebrow. Dally flinched a little at this which caused you to look at him sorrily. You soaked the washcloth again and started on another wound on his cheekbone. You repeated these ministrations until his face was clean of blood.

“Do you have any other open wounds?” you inquired.

“Nah, just bruises,” he answered.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’ll be alright.”

His failure to acknowledge your question did not go unnoticed by you. You placed a hand back on his face, thumb caressing his cheek.

“You make quite the nurse, doll.”

You shook your head, eyes closed.

“I hate seeing you like this Dal.”

“Hey,” he placed his hand over your own, “I’m okay.”

You nodded, looking into his eyes. You let your gaze fall to his lips. Then, you kissed him.

Dally kissed back almost immediately, pressing months of unsaid feelings to your lips with his own. He tasted like tobacco and cheap beer. 

The kiss quickly turned messy; tongues sliding against each other as you straddled him on the edge of your bed. His large hands gripped your thighs and you bit lightly on his bottom lip. Your hand was still on the side of his face, the other pulling at the hair on the back of his head, causing him to moan. When you finally pulled back for air, Dally placed his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Will you stay?” you asked, so quietly you weren’t sure if he heard you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You crawled into bed, Dally removed his shoes and jacket, following after you. After pulling the covers up, you reached for his hand. You ran your thumb over his bruised knuckles, just like you had dreamed of doing the night you first met. You placed a kiss on each of them, smiling to yourself as you did so.

That night, as you laid comfortably on Dally’s chest, he became sure that he loved you. He decided, that night, that he would do anything for you. He would do anything to protect you.

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In the following weeks, your relationship with Dally became more romantic. You often spent the night in Dally’s apartment and he often came knocking on your window at ungodly hours of the night. It became difficult to sleep without you, but he’d never tell you that. You realized that he very rarely wasn’t touching you in some way or another. His arm found home over your shoulders or around your waist. He frequently pulled you into his lap and placed his head in the crook of your neck. 

After months of knowing you, though, Dally never introduced you to his friends. Dally hadn’t realized you had never met the gang until he arrived at the Curtis house after not having been there in nearly a month.

“Where you been Dal? I feel like I never see you no more,” Johnny commented.

“I’m sorry kid, I’ve been busy with Y/N,” Dally replied, sitting next to Johnny on the couch.

“Who’s Y/N?” Ponyboy questioned from his spot on the floor.

“She’s- uh- She’s my girl,” Dally responded.

“How come we never met her then?” Two-Bit inquired, joining the boys in the living room, beer in hand.

“Never met who?” Sodapop asked, following Two-Bit to the living room, Steve in tow.

“Dally’s girlfriend,” answered Ponyboy.

“If she’s anything like Sylvia, I don’t wanna meet her,” Steve announced, getting a good laugh out of Two-Bit.

“Shut yer trap, will ya? She’s nothing like that,” Dally spat, placing a cigarette between his lips.

“What’s she like then?” Pony interrogated.

The boys looked to Dallas, eagerly awaiting his response. Dally lit his cancer stick.

“She’s- I don’t know man. She’s different. She sneaks into movies and she beats me at everything: cards, poker, pool. She’s a damn good pool player. She could drink two six-packs, she’ll still beat me, man. She’s smart. And she’s pretty. Real pretty,” Dally smiled. “She's nothing like Sylvia, man.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Sounds like somebody’s in love!” Soda said, breaking the silence.

That single comment set the room ablaze; hooting and hollering, and endless wolf calls and whistles filled the house.

“Shut up man!” Dally shouted; though, he was never able to fully wipe the smile from his face.

“When ya gonna let us meet her, Dal?” asked Johnny

“Yeah, you should bring her by,” Soda decided.

Dally thought for a moment before grabbing the phone.

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When you arrived at the Curtis house an hour later, you were overcome with nerves. You knew Dally’s gang was something of a family to him and you wanted to make a good first impression. You lit a cigarette, licking your lips to taste the sweet residue left behind by the cloves. You made your way up the steps, knocking on the door. 

When it opened, you were met with a young boy. He had longer, dark hair slicked back with grease; and kind, light brown eyes. The two of you exchanged a smile.

“Come in,” he said, stepping to the side.

You entered and were immediately met with a low whistle from a man in a Mickey Mouse shirt, causing you to smile and roll your eyes. You took a puff from your cigarette while surveying the room. You could definitely tell the space was inhabited by three boys; still, it was homey and happy.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see a familiar face.

“Sodapop?”

Soda quickly crossed the room to wrap his arms around you and you giggled, returning his hug.

“How’ve you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soda exclaimed.

“I’ve been good, really good. Are you still working at the DX?”

Unbeknownst to you, Dally stood in the corner of the room, watching your reunion with the second-oldest Curtis boy. He clicked his tongue and took a swig of his beer. Something about watching Soda embrace you like that didn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t figure out why. Dallas trusted you. So why did seeing you giggle at something Soda said have him clenching his fist? 

Dally sauntered over to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“Hey dollface,” Dally said, “you- uh- you two know each other?”

“Yeah! I used to pop in at the DX all the time for snacks and stuff. Soda and I became familiar,” you replied.

“Uh-huh,” Dally responded shortly, moving to sit on the couch next to the Mickey-Mouse-clad man.

You immediately felt something was wrong with Dallas but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You tried to shake off the thought, turning back to Soda.

“So who is everybody?” you asked

“This here is Steve,” Soda introduced, as a man with greased hair and crooked teeth approached you from the dining table, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Right, I remember you,” you said, taking his hand.

“That there is Two-Bit,” Soda continued, pointing to the man in the Mickey Mouse shirt. You gave Two-Bit a small wave. “Then, there’s Johnnycake,” Soda gestured to a boy sitting on the floor in a jean jacket. “And my kid brother, Ponyboy,” finally identifying the young man who opened the door for you.

“No way! This is your brother?” you moved to sit between Johnny and Ponyboy on the floor.

“Yup! I have an older brother, Darry, but he’s not home right now,” Soda answered.

You nodded, putting out your cigarette.

“You wanna beer?” Soda offered.

“That would be nice, thank you,” you replied. You turned your attention to Ponyboy, “Soda’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re into books and movies and stuff.”

“Yeah,” responded Ponyboy, sheepishly.

“I like movies too,” you said, smiling.

“Really?” Ponyboy inquired, excitement evident in his tone.

You hummed in agreement, taking a beverage from Soda’s hand with a small ‘thank you’.

“What about you?” you asked, turning to Johnny.

You noticed Johnny’s face was littered with scars and bruises. When he finally met your eyes, you saw years of pain and suffering in the chocolate orbs staring back at you. His eyes almost felt… recognizable. You realized that you saw a bit of Dally in Johnny’s eyes. Both had eyes that belonged to people who knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Your heart immediately ached for him, this young boy who’d been beaten down by the world’s brutality. It wasn’t pity that you felt for him, it was sympathy.

Johnny didn’t answer your question, only shrugging. You took a sip of your beer and reached for your cigarettes. You handed one to Johnny, lighting his and then your own.

“It’s sweet,” Johnny announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You smiled at the familiar reaction.

“They’re clove cigarettes,” you said, “they’re these little flowers that they roll in with the tobacco. It makes ‘em smell and taste good.”

Johnny nodded along as you spoke, smiling. He liked the sound of your voice; it was soft and soothing. 

Dally watched you talk to Johnny out of the corner of his eye. The only two people Dallas ever loved; he was glad that you guys seemed to be getting along. 

“You boys ever played poker?” you questioned. Johnny and Ponyboy shook their heads. “Go get a deck of cards. I’ll teach you.”

Ponyboy stood up to find a deck of cards and you got up to sit on Dally’s lap. You frowned as Dallas refused to meet your eyes. Eventually, you placed your hands on his face, forcing him to look at you.

“What’s wrong?” you all but demanded.

Dally didn’t respond to your question, instead, he leaned up and pressed his lips to yours. Two-Bit howled at the action, causing Dallas to hit him upside the head with his lips still on yours.

“Gross,” said Ponyboy, having returned with the cards.

You smiled into the kiss before parting, Dally’s lips chasing your own.

“Alright, let’s play,” you announced, walking over to the dining table.

“You mind if we join in?” Soda asked, Steve at his side.

“Not at all,” you replied, “In fact, why don’t we all play? Two-Bit? Dal? You want in?” 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in laughter, playful arguing, and competitive gameplay. You taught Johnny, Ponyboy, and some of the rest of the gang how to play Texas Hold’em. You all bet cigarettes as chips, giving the game some real stakes. Eventually, Darry arrived home; the oldest Curtis brother could not be convinced to join the game, shaking his head but ultimately enjoying the chaos occurring at his dining room table. By the time everyone called it quits, Steve and Two-Bit both won one hand, Soda and Dally both won two, Johnny won three, and you won four. 

“Ponyboy, you have the worst poker face!” you exclaimed, laughing as you gathered the cards.

“You better not have any run-ins with the fuzz,” Two-Bit cackled, “you’ll crack for sure!”

“Now I know why gambling’s illegal. I barely have any cigarettes left. If we were betting real money, I would’ve lost my house,” Steve joked.

“That’s why you won’t be doin’ it with real money, isn’t that right boys?” Darry called with a stern look etched on his face.

The boys all nodded in unison, making you giggle.

“You going home tonight Johnny?” Dally questioned with concern.

Johnny shook his head, taking a seat on the couch.

“Speaking of going home, I think I overstayed my welcome. Besides, I need to start smoking all the cigarettes you guys let me steal from you,” you said with a wink, making the boys groan in response. 

You made your way toward the door, ruffling Pony’s hair as you walked past him.

“Y/N!” You turned around at the sound of Soda’s voice. “You could never overstay your welcome. You can come here whenever you like,” he said with a smile.

Your heart warmed at his words and you nodded appreciatively. You opened the door, tossing a goodbye over your shoulder as you exited, Dally close behind.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. You and Dally could talk about any and everything but as your relationship progressed, you also became comfortable in each other's quiet company. That being said, your mind was restless.

“Why did you ask Johnny if he was going home tonight?” you blurted.

“Johnny’s folks are no good, man,” Dally replied after a moment, “every time he goes home, he comes back with new bruises.” 

You nodded, thinking to yourself.

“Where does he go instead?” you questioned.

“He stays at the Curtis’ or he goes to the lot.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip. You hated that. You hated that Johnny was spending nights alone, sleeping on a busted seat in an empty lot. But what you hated, even more, was that he thought it better than being at home. If that place could even be called a home. The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. You clenched your hands at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt Dally’s hand grab your clenched one.

“I know. I hate it too. But you ain’t doin’ nothin’ for him by working yourself up over it, so relax,” he said.

You took a deep breath.

“You were- You were upset earlier. Why?” you interrogated.

Dallas often marveled at your ability to read him. You seemed to always know how he was feeling without him having to say a word. You just got him in a way no one had before.

“I just… I didn’t like how Soda was touching you, doll.”

“You were jealous?” you thought aloud, a smirk growing on your face.

“I wasn’t jealous,” Dally said defensively, looking away from you.

“You totally were!” 

“I wasn’t!”

“Just admit it, you were jealous!”

Dally stopped in front of your house, tackling you into a hug. 

“Shut up man,” Dally said, kissing your neck, causing you to giggle.

“We’ve talked about this though Dal,” you replied seriously. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“I know, doll. But ya gotta understand. I don’t trust em’, other guys I mean,” said Dallas carefully.

“But you can trust me,” you replied earnestly, “and Soda’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dally looked at the ground. “Can I- I wanna give you somethin’.”

“What is it?” Dallas slowly removed his St. Christopher from his neck. “Oh Dally, I couldn’t-”

“I want you to have it,” he said resolutely, “come on, turn around”

You turned your back to Dallas, allowing him to secure the chain around your neck. You fiddled with the silver pendant. When he was finished, you turned to face him.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever,” you said with a smile.

Dally looked down at you, placing his hands on your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You guys stayed like that for a while, kissing under a street lamp on a warm September night. 

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Dallas Winston had completely changed your life. It was a surprise to everyone but you that he was capable of changing it for the better. His gang quickly adopted you into their group; you went to movies with Ponyboy, made lunches on weekdays for Darry, visited Soda and Steve at the DX, drank with Two-Bit on weekends, and all the while maintained your multi-weekly sleepovers with Dallas. Out of everyone, though, you had grown particularly close to Johnny.

You no longer allowed Johnny to sleep at the lot. If he couldn’t stay at the Curtis’, you insisted that he stay with you. Dally, admittedly, wasn’t overjoyed to be sharing you with his best friend but he knew you couldn’t bear to let Johnny sleep in the lot, especially with the changing season; It was one of the many things Dallas loved about you. You helped Johnny with his homework when you could, went to the Dingo, taught him how to play a variety of your favorite games, read to him, and even cleaned his wounds after he visited his parents. Despite popular belief, Johnny was smart. You truly loved and treated Johnny like a brother. And Johnny loved you too, the first woman in his life to treat him with compassion.

You were at the Curtis house baking cookies for the boys. It was the holiday season and you wanted to do something nice for the gang.

“Hurry up! I want my cookies!” shouted Two-Bit from the living room.

“You keep shouting at me, and you aren’t getting any!” you called back.

“Do we pour in the dry ingredients now?” asked Ponyboy.

“Not yet, Johnnycake hasn’t cracked the eggs,” you replied.

Johnny moved to crack the eggs. He disposed of the eggshells while you mixed the wet ingredients. Ponyboy poured in the dry ingredients, missing half the bowl. You shook your head as the boys laughed, sweeping the powder in with their hands. You were glad you cleaned the area and made the boys wash their hands before you started baking. Once everything was incorporated, Johnny started mixing. You busied yourself by greasing the cookie sheets. Pony leaned against the counter, gazing at Dally’s St. Christopher hanging around your neck.

“Y/N, are you in love with Dally?”

You nearly dropped the cookie sheet you were holding, making Johnny laugh.

“Yeah Y/N, are you in love?” Johnny said, teasing, but still genuinely curious.

“What kind of question is that?” you exclaimed, your face hot with embarrassment. The two boys looked at you expectantly, causing you to sigh. “Of course I do. I love Dally with all my heart. But we’ve never said anything like that to each other before so keep your mouths shut, you hear?” 

The boys nodded, smiling.

“What’s it like?” Johnny questioned.

“Soda says bein’ in love is real nice,” Ponyboy answered.

“Well, I can’t speak for Soda,” you said, “but being in love with Dal is like… being at the top of a roller coaster. It’s exciting and enthralling and it makes you feel all fuzzy.” Johnny and Ponyboy watched you carefully. “So- So I guess Soda’s right… it’s real nice,” you smiled.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas hadn’t returned any of your calls in the past five days. You were rather busy as it was the beginning of a new year and you assumed Dally just hadn’t been able to get back to you. But when the weekend finally came and you still hadn’t heard back from him, you were beginning to feel worried. You walked over to Buck’s hoping to find him there but he wasn’t. Buck informed you that he hadn’t even seen Dally in the past five days. Hearing that immediately sent you from worried to full-on terrified. You ran as fast as you could to the Curtis house. 

You pushed the gate open and ran up the steps, frantically knocking on the door. Johnny opened it, looking down at you from your spot on the stairs.

“Johnnycake,” you spoke through labored breaths, “have you seen Dal? I went looking for him but Buck hasn’t seen him and he hasn’t answered any of my calls. I- I’m starting to get really worried, Johnny, please tell me you’ve seen him.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Johnny asked, shocked.

“Know what? Johnny, what’s going on?” Johnny pulled you inside, the whole gang was there, looking at you sorrily. “You guys are really freaking me out. Where’s Dal? What happened?”

“Dal’s in the cooler Y/N,” Two-Bit said finally.

The boys all looked to the ground, unable to meet your eyes.

“He’s- He’s what?” 

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/N-,” Soda started.

“No. No.” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes “Can I see him? I need to see him. Darry,” you approached him, “take me to see him. Please. Please take me to see him.”

Darry looked into your eyes, he'd never seen you so desperate.

“Alright kid, I’ll take you.”

“I’m coming too,” Johnny announced.

The car ride was quiet; the only sound that could be heard was the tires against the road. 

You knew Dallas had been to jail on multiple occasions for a variety of different stretches. But the image of Dally in a prison uniform, locked up in a cell, made your heart ache. Tears began streaming down your face at the thought. You laid your head on Johnny’s shoulder and cried silently.

When you arrived, Darry told you and Johnny to head inside while he waited in the car. The two of you met a lady at the front desk, giving her your names along with Dallas’. She invited you to wait while they informed him of your visit. Finally, she led the both of you to ‘the visitation room’.

There were two rows of seats facing each other, separated by glass. Each column was divided by walls, and a phone hung from the left wall of every column on both sides of the glass. Johnny stood at the edge of the room and you took a seat, fiddling with the pendant on the necklace Dally gave to you.

When Dallas entered, you watched from the other side of the glass as the cop removed the cuffs from his wrists. Dally had a nasty bruise on the side of his face. He sat at the seat across from you, picking up the phone. You copied his actions.

“Hey dollface.”

“Hey Dal,” you forced a smile, tears welling up in your eyes, “ are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Is there really nothing I can do to get you out of here?” you questioned, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Please don’t cry, doll. I can’t stand to watch you cry.”

“This is killing me, Dal.”

“I know, doll. I know. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But listen to me, alright? They said I got four months in here if I stay on my best behavior. I’m gonna be a saint, alright? I swear it. They’ll let me out early and I’ll come home to you. I promise,” he said decidedly. 

“Okay,” you nodded, tears streaming down your face.

“You gotta promise me you won’t come back here. I don’t want you to see me like this, ya understand? Just take care of the boys and wait for me. I promise I’ll come back to you.”

“Fine,” you said. “Dal, I-”

“Don’t say it. Not now. Just wait for me, alright?”

You nodded, hanging up the phone. You turned and left the room, Dally’s eyes on you as you exited. Dallas gestured for Johnny. 

Johnny sat down in your seat, picking up the phone just as you did.

“Hey Dal,” said Johnny.

“Hey kid. Listen, take care of Y/N for me, alright?”

“‘Course I will.”

“Thanks Johnnycake.”

Johnny had never heard Dallas say ‘thank you’ to anybody for anything. Johnny knew then that you were truly important to Dally, that Dally loved you.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

That night, after your visitation with Dally, you stayed at the Curtis’; you fell asleep on Soda and Ponyboy’s shared bed, tucked between Johnny and Ponyboy as Pony read aloud.

In the following months, you did exactly what Dallas told you to do; you took care of the boys and waited for him. The boys took care of you too, sometimes unknowingly. Not a moment went by, though, that you didn’t think about Dally: his eyes, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You missed him gravely and your driving force became the knowledge that he would, eventually, come home. 

It was a late morning at the Curtis house, as per usual on weekends. It had been four months since you had visited Dally in jail, but you believed that it was still far too early in the month for Dallas to be coming home anytime soon. You were cooking eggs and french toast for the boys, humming to the music playing through your record player. You had dragged the sound system over months prior, noticing that you were spending more time at the Curtis’ than your own home. You piled two pieces of toast next to some plated eggs. A new song began and you moved your hips to the rhythm, singing along. You were in your own world, completely unaware of what was happening in the rest of the house. You were dancing across the kitchen floor when you heard it, the voice you thought about every day for months.

“Jeez doll, I’m starting to think you didn’t miss me at all.”

You spun around so fast, you were impressed that you didn’t get whiplash. You dropped your spatula, legs carrying you as fast as they could, jumping into his arms. Dally laughed at the impact.

“Oh Dal, you’re home! You’re finally home!” you pressed your lips to his, months of longing behind a single kiss. You hugged him close. “I missed you so much.”

Suddenly, Dally threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise. Dally made his way through the Curtis home, you giggling into his back. 

“Say bye to the boys, Y/N,” Dally announced.

"Bye!" you said, face red from the blood flow to your head.

A chorus of goodbyes could be heard from the boys as you exited.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

You were laying in bed with Dallas in his single room above Buck’s bar, just like you had done many times before. But this time was different as you had waited months for this moment, to be in his arms again.

“I missed you so much Dal,” you reiterated.

“I missed ya too, doll. So much,” he said. Dallas looked into your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He remembered the thing you wanted to say to him when you visited him in jail, the thing he stopped you from saying, the thing he thought about you saying for the past four months. “I love you,” he blurted out, surprising himself and you. 

Your eyes widened at his confession, mouth slightly agape. You searched his eyes for any regret or doubt but there was none.

“I love you, Dal. I love you so much.”

He kissed you, tongue prodding at your bottom lip for entry. You allowed him, tongues molded together in an eloquent dance. When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m no good with words, doll. You know that. But I’m lucky. I’m lucky to love you.”