loser4vintage

[loser4vintage]

~☆Introduction☆~

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◇ Hello! I'm Jasper, the aspiring author behind this account! I go by He/They pronouns, and I'm 18 years old. :)

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◇To get into the jist of things, here are a few important things to know before requesting anything:

~ No NSFW (as in sexual content).

~ No drug abuse topics.

~ Patience. I'm often busy and commonly get caught up juggling school, work, and social life. So please be kind and wait patiently.

~ I'm a nervous person and may take time to answer requests. However, my requests are currently open, so please feel free to request anything under my guidelines!

~ I only do one-shots (usually longish) since I'll lose motivation otherwise.

~ I only write about my personal interests or ocs. So if you like what I like, feel free to request!

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◇Now for things I will / do write:

~ Angst

~ Fluff

~ Horror

~ Fantasy

~ Oc x Canon (my own or very close friends)

~ Canon x reader

~ Ocs (Again, my own or cfs)

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◇My intrests:

~ The Outsiders

~ RDR2

~ Kny (Demon Slayer)

~ MHA (If you're weird about it, I will say no.)

~ The Zombie Apocalypse (Could be an AU for any of these listed <3)

~ LOZ BOTW

~ Matt Dillon

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☆ ~ Masterlist (W.I.P)

[loser4vintage]

~•°\\Cuts and Bruises//°•~

Summary: Diana cleans Dallas up after a rumble

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Warnings: Cussing, depictions of injuries

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Content: fluff, angst if you squint hard enough(???)

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Oc x Canon

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Word count: 1922

It was a warm summer night, the sky glistening with stars and softly kissed with the occasional clouds that rolled across its vast expanse above. The sounds of the crickets nightly song, and a gentle rumble of a car passing by had carried against the warm breeze and into the small crack of Diana's bedroom window, filling the room with a comforting atmosphere.

Diana sat at her desk, swallowed into her homework that laid flat against the surface as her pen flawlessly traveled against the paper. As she sat there, she subconsciously hummed with the soft melody of music that emitted from her record player, jotting down her thoughts and answers.

She was nervous. She had every right to be. As for tonight was the night of the rumble between the Socs and Greasers, and knowing Dallas, he was going to be there. He always was. He'd never pass up the opportunity to get a Soc busted up and bloody.

So, to drown out her own thoughts, she focused down on the paper before her and wrote down the things she'd learnt or knew with the company of Frank Sinatra playing and filling her room. It was just her way of easing her mind when a cigarette wasn't involved.

She shifted a bit in her seat, flipping a page in her textbook that was sat aside before glancing up at the clock on her wall.

'7:34 p.m... The rumble started half an hour ago.'

She glanced back down at the text book, hoping to occupy her mind with school work. Although, anxiety had its wicked ways of lurking in the back of her mind and crawling its way forward again. So as she thought about it more, her foot began to subconsciously bounce in place and her teeth had found themselves in the habit of chewing at the skin along her bottom lip.

Then, as if an answer to her silent prayers, there was a soft click against her window, soon followed by another, slightly heavier click. 'Dallas.'

She dropped her pen and quickly stood from the uncomfortable wooden chair she sat in, making her way to her window in a few tip-toed strides. She had to be careful and light-footed, not wanting to alert her parents.

Diana's fingers slipped under the crack of her window, quietly sliding the glass up and placed her hands against the window sill as she looked down at Dallas, who had been tossing small pebbles at her window in attempt to get her attention.

"Hey doll. Mind to lend me a hand?" He mumbled, gesturing toward the gutter that was too weak to support his weight when climbing the back porch railing to the rooftop outside her window. He'd learnt the hard way.

Diana giggled at his request, shaking her head a bit before stepping through her window and out onto the secure rooftop. She then took a few steps forward, watching Dallas as he walked up to the porch and began to place his feet along the railing, hoisting himself up and using every muscle in his body to balance along the semi-thick metal below him. She reached out her hand, offering it to him, in which he gladly took before using most of his remaining strength to pull himself up with her planted support.

When he got up onto the roof, he seemed to have a small wince on his face, but he avoided her gaze the best he could in the dark shadows of night that cloaked them. He then silently gestured to her bedroom with a nod and the slightest raise of his hand in its general direction before he pushed past her and carelessly climbed through her window with her following close behind.

Diana was confused on why he hadn't looked her in the eyes or why he seemed to be hiding his face from her, making her simmering worry begin to boil in the pit of her stomach. But she didn't say anything. Not yet, atleast.

As she entered her room again, she left the window open, letting the warmth blanket her room with comfort and provide Dallas a quick escape incase her parents were to check on her. Dallas sat down along the edge of her bed, his gaze pinned to the floor as she came up beside him and sat down, getting a better view of him in the warm colored light that bathed his face.

He looked disheveled and dirty. His face was adorned in cuts and dried blood, bruises kissed along his cheek and jaw as they quickly began blossoming into deep shades of purple, and his hair lay in unnaturally messy tresses that framed his face loosely. The platinum blonde was a stark contrast against the array of colors on his face and his busted up lip, only ever seemingly similar to his pale skin and tired cold blue eyes. Yet, despite the injuries, he had that stupid smirk on his face. Even though it was an obvious facade to her.

Diana's brows furrowed, a frown crossing her lips as she reached up and tenderly cupped his jaw with her hand to turn his face towards her for a better view of the damages. But as she did so, his brows knit together, a small grimace playing on his features as he pulled back and grasped her wrist a little harder than he intended to.

"Could ya not?" He hissed, holding her wrist tightly for a moment before releasing it and continuing. "It ain't nothin' I can't handle."

"Dallas, you look like you've been hit by a bus!" Diana exclaimed, careful to keep her voice at a reasonable volume, although the worry in her voice made her speak faster and a bit more frantic. "I told you not to go to that damn rumble."

Then, before he could even protest, she had ahold of his arm, dragging him up onto his feet and into her bathroom. As much as he wanted to protest, he knew there was no persuading her. No amount of his charm or sweet talk could.

She sat him down on the ceramic toilet lid, turning and opening up a small closet that consisted of towels, rags, extra soaps, and her first-aid kit. She swiped the kit from its spot, closing the door before setting the case along the countertop beside him. He let out a scoff, both amused and annoyed as he watched her begin to rummage through the various medical supplies her mother had stocked in there.

"Do ya really gotta get all 'nurse' on me?" He grumbled, which earned a silent glare from the girl as she washed her hands, dried them off, and began to douse a cotton swab with peroxide. She then pulled her focus to other parts of his face than his eyes, stepping up in front of her and tilting his head up gently with the tips of her fingers on his chin.

Even though Dallas hated the whole cleaning wounds part of a rumble, he complied and followed her lead. But that didn't mean he didn't groan and whine about it. Diana then gently swiped the cotton against a cut in his cheek, earning a sharp hiss and a wince from the boy as he jerked back. "That shit burns. Be easier, won't ya?"

"I'm bein' as gentle as I can be, Dal. If ya don't like gettin' cleaned up, then don't go out and get whooped like this." She then pulled him forward again by his chin, cleaning up his wounds again with a frown.

Dallas rolled his eyes, following her lead with reluctance as he let her clean him up. "You worry too damn much, woman." He mumbled under his breath, earning another glare from her with a slight eye roll following after.

He'd never admit it, but he loved how she put up with him and his attitude or when she'd clean him up after a rumble. Something about it reminded him that she was different, that she didn't see him as the good-for-nothing hood he was labeled as by all of Tulsa. She saw him as him. She saw him as a person.

The room was now filled with the soft hum of music that sang out from her bedroom and the occasional hiss or small whimper that sounded from him as she began to clean a new spot. But despite that, the atmosphere was comfortable, intimate even.

Getting lost in the moment of studying her focused features, he rested his hand gently along her hips out of habit, letting his rough, calloused thumb stroke the silk pajama shorts she wore. He'd never get tired of her. He never could, no matter how much he tried to convince himself to.

She eventually pulled back from is face, but not from his grasp as she discarded another cotton swab of many into her small trash can. She then pulled from his hold, taking his hands individually into hers and took of his rings, soon cleaning up his knuckles. It didn't take long for her to finish up, getting started on the quick work of bandaging his injuries.

Before he knew it, she had him clean and swaddled. He stood up, stepping aside as she put away the med kit to look over himself in the mirror. He looked stupid, and he hated it. But he'd only get the earful of a lifetime if he took any off before it was time to change them. So he simply slipped his rings back on and ran his hand through his tousled, ungreased locks with a heavy, exhausted sigh.

Diana put up her stuff, glancing back at him as he studied his reflection closely, a look of irritation written clear on his face. But it didn't stop her from stepping up beside him, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm and looking up into those icy blue eyes that she found herself to love more and more with each second she looked into them. He then glanced down at her, chewing subconsciously on the inside of his cheek before pushing himself off of the sink counter and guiding her back to her bedroom with a gentle hold of her waist in one hand.

The two got to doing their own thing as they entered the room again. Diana was off to put her study equipment back into her bag, and Dallas went to sit on the edge of the bed, finding himself to be enjoying the unspoken rules of whenever he'd come over after a rumble. As she turned off the music, placing the record back into its confined folder, and setting it carefully back in its designated spot on her bookshelf that had a row of just records, he had stripped of his clothes, leaving himself in just his jeans before sitting back and waiting for her to join him.

Diana soon turned off the light, getting up into bed with Dallas and situating herself comfortably in front of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her backup against his chest while nuzzling his face into her shoulder and finding comfort in the cold silky material of her pajamas against his hot, battered skin. As he got comfortable, she shifted a bit, laying perfectly so that they were both comfortable, laying a hand against his arm and moving her head to press a feather light kiss to his hair.

"I love you, hun."

"... I love you too, Doll."

Authors note: AAA I'M NEW TO THIS! I hope this is at least a quarter of enjoyable...