#BUT NOW SHES A GREASER

[justmwahstruly]

just some litol doodls

silly maybe a bit too silly

me when ragatha hehehehhhehe (looking at you. you know who you are 🫵👁️👁️)

he’s so stupid <3

(did not draw that pretty face! @annemissingshoe did! nor did i draw the litol gangle, @sallyandganglesimp did! both are very talented!)

and ofc! tadc belongs to @/gooseworx!

[quibbs126]

if ur taking the fankid requests maybs kiwi x rockstar. hooked up on the fact rockstar calls kiwi his soulmate and there’s no elaboration haha

I'm back at it again with posting my old fankids that have just been sitting in my drafts, this is Honeydew Cookie

So as I recall, Honeydew here is really moody and just generally a bit of a jerk. She's rebellious and doesn't like establishment

...Okay I'm gonna be honest, most of what I remember about her is that she's based on greasers, not much else. I'm just trying to come up with something to say. I'm not sure if she's genuinely mean or if it's just an act she puts on to seem cool. I'd say she's around 20. She also wasn't always this way, she just grew into this over time

Sorry for the short character part, I just genuinely don't remember anything about her personality other than greaser and vibes. Let's just move on

So Honeydew is a light green fruit, so that's my justification for the name, since Kiwi is a green fruit and Rockstar has white hair. I remember I chose Honeydew specifically because I was planning on her being a greaser/rockabilly and I thought Honeydew was a name that was contradictory to that vibe, sort of like a subversion

Honeydew:

So yeah, I basically just based her design off pictures of greasers I found on the internet, specifically the guy's fashion, and also specifically I tried to find pictures from the time, aka like the 50s. I think I picked it because it was considered rebellious and such (I don't know what words specifically, but you know what a greaser is), and that fit in with what rock sort of is, or at least was. And I think greaser/rockabilly (I don't know specifically what the difference between them is, are they the same thing) might have had some connection with rock at the time? I'm not sure

Or it might have also been because I have a vague memory of someone making a greaser Holly from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, and that stuck with me

I feel like I originally had some trouble with designing her hair and making sure you could see it, but it eventually worked out

She also originally had Kiwi's normal eye color, but for a reason I can't remember, I darkened it. Maybe so she didn't just have Kiwi colors? But regardless, I like how her eyes look currently

Yeah I feel like I don't have much to say, but that's not to say I dislike her, I quite like her look a vibe. I just don't know what to say about it

But anyways, I hope you enjoy her

[theoldkissedmill]

im catdog selfshipping now.

[ratfreecog]

Mtf Sodapop who thinks “well now that im a girl I guess I have to like guys” and gets a boyfriend and realizes her mistake. But she still likes to be treated like a lady and like ‘how a guy should treat his girlfriend’ and she ends up with a butch greaser girlfriend who shows her off and buys her dresses and makeup and lets Soda sit on her lap and takes her on dates and Soda LOVES it and loves her girlfriend

[kreature-ofthenight]

one thing I´ve learned, no matter if I go to a saloon or a baber shop unless I tell them very wehemnetly right before the act or rather when they are about to do it unprompted, to not shave of my “sideburns” babyhair fuzz (they barely can be called that I know) to “clean up my look“ they will leave me with the smothest baby face that not even mae-up can salvage...like bro I need those even if you think Im a girl just listen to what Im telling you

[softichill]

Stealing characters away from ancient fandom-specific roleplays to instead be completely original

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[muwapsturniolo]

✯BUBBLE POP ELECTRIC✯

Black!reader x Greaser!Chris

In which… Y/n and Chris have been going steady for a couple of months now, and she’s finally ready to give him all her love in the backseat.

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! FINGERING, MENTIONS OF BODY PARTS, RIDING, Exhibitionism, IF I MISSED ANYTHING LET ME KNOW!

“Come on Chris! When are you gonna get here!” Y/n huffs as she walks around her room, her white lace socks meshing with the baby-pink carpet.

She was being impatient.

She and Chris have been going steady for a couple of months now, going on dates, making out under the bleachers, and him sneaking through her window to help her fall asleep.

It was the typical high school relationship in her eyes, but she planned on making it even better.

“Alright alright, you hold your tight little ass I’ll be there in a minute-“ his thick Boston accent comes through the line. She becomes flustered hearing him speak about her ass, never use to the way he compliments her.

She knows Chris wants to make it to third base, but he’s been very patient with her and she is forever grateful. He’s a wonderful boyfriend and she wants to repay him.

“-You just get yourself dolled up, alright babydoll? And you pick the place for tonight, I picked last time.” She can hear him chomping down on the gum that’s in his mouth as he speaks.

Y/n stops pacing her room and takes a deep breath, “umm, Chris?”

“Yeah, dollface?”

“I know you said you will be here soon but hurry…because tonight’s the night.” She waits anxiously for a response, only being met with silence on the other end.

“You sure dollface? You know I don’t have a problem with waiting.” Her heart warms at his words; He was never one to push her to give up her virginity, always telling her when she’s ready that’s when it will happen.

“I’m sure…I’m even wearing those shorts and the top you love.” She giggles out. He sucks in a sharp breath and begins speaking, she can hear the smirk on his face. “You sure know how to tease me babydoll. Alright, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

They say their 'goodbyes' and end the call, Y/n squealing to herself. She skips over to her vanity and finishes up her makeup.

She can’t believe that she and Chris are going to have sex tonight. It’s been a long time coming, the tension high between them. Y/n has been waiting for this moment!

She was a virgin, not a prude.

She had her needs, always feeling empty and needing to be fulfilled. That need was to the ceiling now that she’s actually in love with someone.

It was always on her mind, the thought making her restless. She always did her best to keep it from Chris, wanting to be a good girl and not come off too strong, but she couldn’t hold back anymore.

She wanted Chris to take her now and do her justice.

She’s finished her makeup and is now sitting on her bed, her leg bouncing anxiously as she anticipates his arrival. She groans and throws her body backward onto her bed, she always hated how long it took Chris to get to her house.

20 minutes to be exact, 25 on a bad traffic day.

As she waits for him, she begins to think of their date night. Even though Chris told her to pick a place for them to go, all she can think about is sex.

She knows they couldn’t go back to her’s or his, and she knows for sure a hotel is out of the question. She flips on to her stomach with a huff and tries to think of where they could have their fun.

She gasps when it hits her,

His car!

That’s it, tonight she’s going to give him all her love in the back seat. It wouldn’t be the most ideal or comfortable situation, but they could make something work. Maybe she could be on top? Slowing it down and speeding it up.

Now that she has a plan, she’s even more impatient.

“Y/n stop biting your nails!” She jumps and looks at her mother through the mirror, smiling sheepishly.

“Calm down! I’m sure Chris is on his way.” Her mother tries to ease her nerves. “Ok I know he’s on his way now, but jeez Louise, today now!”

Her mother thinks it’s just her being super excited to see her boyfriend. That’s part of the reason, but Y/n is ready to play and win this game, she can’t wait any longer.

She can’t wait to finally see what her friends have been talking about. She knows Chris is big, she’s felt him through his pants on multiple occasions and god, she couldn’t wait to get a taste of his candy.

As she sits and thinks about the night to come, she feels a tingle in her privet area. She knows what it is, usually having to clench her legs and handle it at home when she is done being with Chris. A wide smile takes over her face when she realizes that Chris would be the one to handle it tonight.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by the doorbell ringing. She gasps and runs out of her room, “I’ll get it!” She yells in excitement.

“Y/n what did I tell you about running in my house!?” She ignores her mother’s words and swings the door open.

She’s greeted by Chris leaning against the frame, toothpick in his mouth. He’s dressed in his typical outfit of dark blue jeans, and a white muscle tee. His infamous leather jacket is thrown over his body as well as black and white Converse adorning his feet.

His hair isn’t as slicked back as he usually likes it, letting its natural wispy state take over.

Y/n clenches her thighs as she stares at him, never getting used to seeing him. A shy smile makes its way over her face, “Hi Chris.”

He smirks seeing her flustered state, “Hey babydoll.” She grins before pulling him inside the house, “let me go get my sweater!” She rushes away before he can say anything. Chris looks around the home before waving to her dad who’s walking past, “Hi Mr. Y/l/n. Nice to see you again sir.” Chris sticks out his hand to greet your father.

Shockingly the two got along, your dad not caring about what side of the tracks Chris came from. “Christopher! Nice to see you again! What do you two have planned tonight!”

“She planned it, but I know it’s going to be lots of fun.” He does his best to hide the look on his face. Your dad shrugs and smiles, “Well, be safe! You kids have fun, not too much fun!” As he walks away Chris mumbles to himself.

“Too much fun will definitely be had.”

“By Mom! By Daddy!”

Y/n rounds the corner and grabs Chris’s hand, dragging him out of the house and to his car. She loves his car, granted she doesn’t know the model, but she loves the cherry red color and the fact that the roof comes off.

He opens the door for her, slapping her ass as she climbs in. She squeals and looks back at him with an annoyed look.

“Chris!”

He says nothing as he closes the door and gets in on the drivers side. He settles down and pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He puts the cancerous stick in his mouth and lights it, throwing the lighter in the console compartment.

“Where you wanna go princess?” He asks as he pulls out of the driveway. She giggles at the nickname and turns to him.

“Drive in movie.”

It’s a triple entendre.

Drive in movie, drive in move me, and drive into me.

Chris catches on and shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “Anything for you dollface.” He steps on the gas and flies through the streets of Boston, cigarette in his mouth, one hand on the wheel while the other is gripping her thigh.

They arrive at the drive-in, seeing a couple of their mutual friends in their respective cars. “Can you park in the back?” She asks him softly.

Chris nods and drives through the lot, finding a park that’s in the back and away from everyone else, while still having a good view of the movie that’s playing.

He turns off the car and grabs his wallet before handing her some cash, “you wanna go get us some snacks while I say hi to the boys?” She nods and turns to get out of the car, but he stops her.

“I haven’t gotten to kiss you yet.” He watches as she becomes flustered, a smile taking over her face as she looks away from him. He leans over the console and grabs her jaw, pulling her closer.

“Always so shy,” he mumbles as his eyes dart across her face, taking in every detail he loves and could never get enough of. Y/n closes her eyes as Chris pulls her into a passionate and loving kiss, easing away any worry she has about tonight. She melts into his touch, leaning further into him in attempts to get more. Chris smiles as he pulls away from her.

he chuckles hearing her whine, she was always the one begging for more kisses

“Greedy girl-" he taps the side of her face twice before unlocking the car door, "-Go get your snacks baby,” she huffs as she climbs out of the car, speed walking to the concession stand where her friends stand.

Chris climbs out as well, walking over to his friends. He does their handshake before settling against the car, "We saw you and your betty over there getting hot and steamy.” The group falls into laughter as Chris smirks, his eyes falling on Y/n at the snack stand with her friends.

“Just giving her taste of what’s going to happen tonight,”

His friends begin to hoot and holler, aggressively patting him on the back. a cocky smirk makes its way onto his face as he ashes out his cigarette.

“That’s our boy!”

“About time!”

Meanwhile, Y/n is gushing about tonight to her friends.

“Are you nervous? I would be.” Her friend Janet states. Y/n nods as she gives the worker the money, “I’m nervous but I know it will be fine. Chris will take care of me.” Her friends squeal and hug her, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“You have to tell us how it goes!”

“How what goes?” Chris asks as he walks up behind Y/n, his hand sliding into the pocket of her high-waisted shorts. Her friends giggle before running away to their respective cars.

Chris smiles and looks down at her, “you were talking about me to your friends?”

“No," she lies swiftly, too embarrassed to confess that she was in fact talking about him.

He kisses her forehead before eyeing the snack stand, “What’d you get us?” on cue the concession stand worker sets the snacks out for them, handing Chris the change.

“Good choices, keep the change babydoll and use it to get your nails done ok?”

“Ok,” she stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. They grab their snacks and walk back to the car, Chris’s hand on the nape of her back.

They get in the backseat just as the movie begins, leaning against each other and getting lost in the movie. Halfway through, Chris leans down and whispers in her ear, “Sit on my lap” She looks up at him in confusion but does as told. He pulls her back against his chest and starts kissing along her shoulder.

He runs his hands up and down her sides before putting them on her thighs.

“Chr-You gonna let me touch you?” He cuts her off as his hands get higher on her thighs. She takes a shakey breath and nods,

This is what she wanted.

“Gotta hear you say it dollface.” His breath is warm against her ear, goosebumps rising along her body.

“Yes”

He hums before draping the blanket over the both of them, “Pull your shorts down f’me.” She shakes as she lifts her waist up to pull her shorts down, leaving her in an orange thong. Chris catches a small glimpse and he feels his pants tighten. Y/n feels it too, her cheeks warming.

He kisses her shoulder once again, “You wore the orange ones on purpose, didn't you?" She giggles softly, leaning further into him. "do you like it?" He goes back to kissing her shoulder, running his hands over her body. He rubs over her stomach before sneaking up her shirt, running his hands over her covered breasts and squeezing them softly.

"Of course I do. Is it a matching set?" He tweaks her nipples through the acey material. "S-Stop teasing," she whines, spreading her legs in the process.

He chuckles before moving his hands back to her legs, rubbing on the inner thigh. He grabs hold of her thong and moves it to the side, trailing a single finger through her folds and gathering her wetness. She exhales and closes her eyes as he begins to spread her wetness around.

He circles her clit, still kissing along her shoulder. She moans softly, her eyes still closed. She’s touched herself before, multiple times, but Chris is bringing her a whole new feeling. His fingers moved diligently to satisfy the ache between her legs.

He uses his other hand to slide two fingers into her, “C-Chris.” She mewls as he begins to guide them in and out. Although the volume of the movie is loud, the squelching from her wet cunt is even louder.

Chris is getting harder each second, the sounds of her moans fueling his lust. He can tell she's close, her walls squeezing his fingers tightly. He curls his fingers, rubbing that special spot that makes her gasp and grab his wrist. "You're close doll. Squeezing m'fingers like a vice. you gonna let go for me?" She vigorously nods her head, biting her lip to suppress her moans. He speeds up both of his hands, making sure to keep hitting that sweet spot inside of her.

That familiar pressure fills her stomach but it's hotter than usual. "Come on babydoll, let go for me." Her grip on his wrist tightens as she throws her head back, a high-pitched moan leaving her throat. Chris feels her juices splash against his hand and something inside of him snaps.

He pulls his fingers away and quickly turns her around so she’s facing him.

He grabs her neck and pulls her in for a deep and passionate kiss. Their tongues dance with each other, teeth clashing and all. She wraps her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, softly grinding against him.

"Fuck-" he mutters through the kiss. "- raise yourself up." He taps her thigh twice.

She pulls away from the kiss and lifts herself up, giving him room to pull his pants and boxers down.

His cock springs free and Y/n is baffled. She knew he was big but this is a different territory. Chris sees the uneasiness on her face,

“Dollface?”

She looks at him hesitantly, “Y-you're too big” He chuckles at her nervousness and pulls her closer, her wetness slicking him up. She moans softly at the traction, "What? You wanted me to be small?" She huffs at his taunting, making him chuckle once again. "lift yourself up for me...that's it babydoll."

She adjusts her position on top of him and holds onto his shoulders. He grips her waist tightly, biting his lip as he looks down between them. He grabs the base of his dick and lines it up at her entrance, "sit down baby."

She slowly begins to lower herself on to him, the stretch burning the slightest bit. She holds her breath and stops, “hey, breathe baby. You gotta relax if you want to fit it all.” She nods and takes a deep breath before sinking all the way down. Chris’s grip tightens on her waist feeling her warm walls against him.

He's dreamt of this many times, imagining how warm and wet she would be.

It's more than he ever imagined.

She closes her eyes and leans against him, her body shaking slightly against his.

“You ok princess?”

“I-I just need a minute.” She whimpers, the stretch still burning. He nods and begins kissing all over her face, mumbling sweet words of encouragement.

She takes a shakey breath and slowly begins to rock her hips, biting her lip as the pleasure takes over her mind and body.

She wants more.

She switches from grinding to bouncing up and down, building a steady tempo. Chris throws his head back and lets out a low groan, his hands guiding her up and down. She lets out a mix of soft whimpers and moans, gripping Chris’s shoulders tightly.

He opens his eyes and sees her looking at him with those innocent eyes.

It drives him crazy.

“Taking me so well dollface,” he grunts, thrusting upward. She lets out a loud moan and falls forward against Chris, his actions taking her by surprise. He wraps his arms around her torso, holding her tightly as he begins to buck his hips upwards.

"F-fuck Chris!"

"Such a dirty mouth-shit- what did I tell you about swearing?"

She lets out a small scream when he forces her down to meet his thrust. He feels his legs getting tired so he stops thrusting and lays them down, hiking her body closer before continuing to thrust into her.

The whole car is shaking, the squeaking noises being masked by the sounds coming from the big screen a few feet away. A few people have noticed the car rocking and the foggy windows, but they keep their mouths shut.

It's the drive-in, everyone has sex here.

Meanwhile, Y/n is on cloud nine. This is the best experience she could ever ask for. It's not like the horror stories she's heard, and she knows this isn't a one-time thing between her and Chris.

They're in love.

His head is shoved in the crevice of her neck, his lips attacking the soft and warm skin. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, one of her arms holding him while the other is gripping the headrest. Her eyes are closed as her mouth lays open, constant moans and pleas tumbling out of her throat.

"D-daddy please!"

These words make Chris lift his head. he was surprised to hear the taboo words fall from her mouth and he loved it. He snaps his hips at a particular angle making her eyes fly open and her back arch. " There she is, let daddy see those pretty eyes." He grabs the back of her head, lifting it so she has no other option than to look at him.

She does her best to focus on him, the eye contact being intimidating and a bit too much. "C-Chris I- I know baby. You're close aren't you?" She nods vigorously, both of her hands flying to his shoulders.

"Come on dollface, make a mess." He sneaks a hand in between them and starts rubbing at her clit. That familiar coil returns in her stomach and she throws her head back when it snaps. "Nghh I lov-" Thinking she's going to let out the loudest moan of tonight and possibly get them caught, he yanks her forward and presses their lips together.

He rides her out through her orgasm, groaning into the kiss as he paints her walls a nice shade of milky white. He collapses on top of her, rubbing her thighs and kissing the top of her exposed breasts. suddenly the car door opens and a body comes tumbling into the driver's seat shocking the two in the backseat.

Chris quickly covers the both of them with a blanket, "What the hell are you doing ya fucking kook?!" Chris shouts as he stares at David, one of his best friends.

"Hey! If you two are done playin' backseat bingo, I suggest getting back to normal. Movies almost over and the lights are coming on!"

"Get bent David! fuckin' aye!' His friend cackles as Chris swats at him, climbing out of the car and running back to wherever he came from. Chris scoffs as he pulls out of her, sitting up to pull up his pants. "Kids a goof. Swear to god imma knock his teeth out," he mumbles as he buckles his belt.

He looks down at her and sees the dazed look in her eyes, "Come on babydoll, let's get you dressed." He helps her sit up and pulls up her shorts, even buttoning them for her. He looks around for her shirt and realizes that at one point during their rendevous, he ripped it off earlier.

He sees a shirt he left in the back seat and quickly grabs it, slipping it over her head.

The lights in the drive-in turn on, and the sounds of car engines fill the lot. "Come on baby, let's get to the front so we can go." He opens the door and climbs out, helping her out of the car as well. She whines as her legs wobble, Chris having to hold her steady. "I got y-" she slaps his hand away, leaving him confused. "Hey, what's wrong?" He notices the tears in her waterline, threatening to spill over. "Y-you didn't say it back..."

He frowns even harder at her statement, "Say what back baby?"

"I-I said I l-love you and you didn't say it back...you kissed me to shut me up." He sighs and pulls her into into him, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry doll, I should have said it back but I thought you were gonna scream and I didn't want to get caught. You know I love you, I'll repeat it a thousand times if I have to...You know that right?"

"I know..."

"Hey-"

He puts two fingers under her chin and makes her look at him, "I love you." She smiles softly at his words, "I love you too."

"Good, now get your cute ass in the car so we can get some ice cream." Her face lights up at the mention of ice cream, her body moving quickly to sit in the passenger seat. He smiles and closes the door, walking over to the driver's side.

"Hey, Chris?" Y/n asks as she plays with the straw to her shake. "Yeah dollface?" He pulls up in front of her house, leaning back in his seat and lighting a cigarette. "Was... Was tonight good?" Her voice is meek, showing she's a bit insecure about their sexual encounter.

"Of course it was good, I got to spend time with you didn't I?" She huffs and gives him a look of annoyance. "You know what I meant."

"I did-" he gives her a cheeky smile making her throw her straw at him. He laughs and yanks her over the center console, her screams and laughs echoing in the car.

They settle down, her back pressed against the door as her legs draped over the console. He blows the smoke away from her and ashes out the cigarette, "Tonight was more than good, it was amazing, you were amazing." She looks down, hiding behind her hair.

"Your moans were pretty, I could listen to them all day. can't wait until we are alone and you can really be loud." She swats at his chest making him chuckle.

"But I'm serious, you were amazing and beautiful, and I appreciate you trusting me enough to be open and vulnerable." Y/n smiles, her chest filled with warmth and love. They sit like this for a few minutes until her mother opens the front door, waving for her to come inside.

"I better split, I know it's past my curfew." Chris groans and slides the seat back so she can climb out. She closes the door and leans through the window to give him a kiss. As she goes to pull away, he stops her, pulling her closer. She giggles through the kiss, "Chris I have to go!"

He huffs and lets go of her, watching her figure walk away. He whistles catching her attention. She turns around and walks back to the car, "yes Chris?"

"I love you baby." she tries to fight the smile making its way onto her face but it wins. "I love you too baby. Now goodnight."

She gets halfway up her driveway when a car horn is heard. She whips around and looks at Chris in shock. It's 10 at night and Chris is honking his car horn.

"Yeah, tell your daddy I said hello!" her eyes widen as her face heats up at his words.

"Chris get out of here!" Chris's laugh echoes throughout the quiet neighborhood as he starts his car back up. She rolls her eyes and runs into her house, a smile on her face.

new ficcccc whats good!!!!

this was my entry for @annamcdonalds67 contest they have going on!!! even if i don't win this was really fun to work on and i hope everyone loves it!!! thank you all for reading

xoxo peaches 🍑

TAGLIST 🍑

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[cordeliawhohung]

i had a rude and terrifying patient at work today and now i'm just thinking about how mafia!Simon wouldn't stand for anyone being blatantly rude to anyone who didn't deserve it, especially service workers and ugh ):

like imagine he takes shy!reader out for a date. he's taken you to some cute american 50's themed diner, which is a nice change of pace of what you're used to seeing in the restaurant you work at. the decor is cute, and the waitstaff are all dressed like greasers or in swing dresses and the two of you are having fun while enjoying terribly greasy and delicious food.

then you've got some asshole completely ruining the mood. he's been loud and angry the entire night, bickering with the waitstaff about prices, complaining when his food comes out because it wasn't done right, things of that sort. you and Simon eye the guy warily, Simon with more anger and distrust than you, but otherwise keep quiet hoping that the man and his cowering family will hurry up and leave eventually.

things get worse when the ticket comes. he's looking it over, and he's making up all sorts of wrongs that they changed him for. saying how the burgers were supposed to be this price, that they didn't order this sort of drink, they were overcharged for this, do you even know what you're doing? it gets to the point where the waitstaff has to call the manager up, and the poor thing can't be any older than 19. and this asshole uses that to his advantage, and despite it she stays strong and says she's not lowering the price of anything and that her waitstaff was right.

then he stands. towering over her, spit flying as he gets in her face, and Simon's had enough. you watch helplessly as he stomps from your table to theirs, putting a tattooed hand on the mans shoulder to pull him away from the poor manager.

"get outta here," he warns, voice annoyed but still dangerous.

"i'm not paying until they fix their mistakes!"

"i'm not askin' you to pay, i'm tellin' you to gather your shit and fuck off."

eventually, by some miracle, the man leaves. he doesn't pay a single dime and though the manager tells him through tears that it's alright, that she can just comp it, he pays for their ticket anyway. when the two of you finish your food, and make sure to say an extra kind farewell to the staff, the waitstaff cleans your table to find a tip that was more than double what you payed for in food.

anyway be kind to people or simon riley will make you pay for it <3

[ambrozjas]

the gang with a reader that is a soc? (separately)

the gang x soc!reader ꨄ︎

the outsiders x soc!reader (separately)

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

this took a while, so sorry for the long wait !! 💘 thank you for the request darlin i really loved writing this !!

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

mentions of alcohol in two-bit’s, dally being a pest, reader is described as gorgeous and beautiful and “purdy” but i don’t think a gender is specified?

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

“ya’know, y’didn’t have to do all this.” DARRY said, his eyes still raking across all the store bags filled with new clothes for sodapop, ponyboy, and darry.

“don’t mention it, dare. i’ve got plenty of money to spend for you boys.” you said, walking over to darry and placing a delicate hand on his arm, looking over the presents.

“sure, but—“

“can’t you just wait ‘til you see the look on soda and pony’s faces? they’re gonna be so happy, just think about it.” you try your best attempt at comforting darry, assuring him that you could afford it.

he merely sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his eyes. you wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head on him, rubbing his left arm soothingly.

“bought us some groceries for dinner t’night, too. don’t worry about it, darry. i got you.” you mumbled in his ear as his icy blue eyes opened and gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“whatever you say, darlin’.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

SODAPOP’s mouth parted a bit as his eyes widened, watching a sleek white 1966 corvette stingray pull up to the dx.

you came out of the car, sunglasses on top of your head with your hair pushed back a bit. then, your friend came out of the car too. johanna winchester, boy was she a bitch. before soda had dropped out, she was pretty much the hottest piece of gossip there, always cheating on her boyfriend and hosting parties at her dad’s two-story house on the west side.

but, you were an unfamiliar face. he had never seen you before, because if he had, he would’ve remembered someone as beautiful as you.

steve had obviously noticed sodapop ogling at something, and following his gaze he saw you. he whistled, “woo! you see those dames, soda?”

soda looked steve up and down, his face and hands covered in black oil. “‘course i see ‘em, now get outta here ‘fore they see you.”

“don’t hate me ‘cause i’m good-lookin’.” steve shrugged, taking one more glance at you and your friend opening the door before walking back to the garage.

“hey! you think we could get five on pump two, please?” ugh, even your voice made soda swoon. you handed him a few neatly stacked dollar bills and looked behind you at your friend who was side eyeing every corner of this place.

“‘course!” sodapop replied, clicking a few buttons to open up pump two but couldn’t help but overhear johanna whispering to you, “couldn’t we have picked another gas station?” obviously because it was run by “greasers.”

you whispered back to her, although soda couldnt hear you. instead, he handed you your change to which johanna rudely grabbed the coins and yanked you away, pulling you out of the dx. you threw one last glance behind you to soda, before you finally get pulled out of the gas station.

for now, he would just have to dream and hope until he sees you again.

boy, he wished he stayed in school a bit longer just so he could’ve see you more often.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

PONYBOY watched as you rested your chin on your palm, looking out the window as the sunlight illuminated your face with a golden hue.

you were in english class, unbothered by the teacher’s ramblings on shakespeare, anything outside was more interesting than this class.

ponyboy’s eyes were glued to you, watching how you wrote down simple phrases in your notebook whenever you’d tune back into the the teacher’s monologuing.

he had just watched your eyes fall across the rest of the room, the other students either borderline falling asleep or not paying attention at all, before your eyes fell on him, and in that very moment he heard a stern, “mr. curtis!” from the teacher.

ponyboy felt his cheeks heat up as the class’ eyes fell on him, he glanced over to you only to find your eyes still on him as well.

“mr. curtis, what is the answer?” he asked. pony stammered a bit, trying to read the board as quickly as possible until he heard nails clacking on the desk across the room. it was you, hand covering your mouth mouthing the letter ‘b’.

“oh—! uh, ‘b’ sir.” ponyboy said, a wave of what he thought to be sweat washing over him as he sighed in relief when the teacher nodded his head.

he looked back over to you, giving him a thumbs up as your pink lips curled in a small smile.

he smiled to himself, mouthing a quick ‘thanks’ to you before looking away and writing down whatever was on the board.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“you ain’t like other greasers, huh?” you asked JOHNNY. “what’s your deal?”

johnny stayed quiet, eyes as wide as saucers as you leaned over him, hands planted firmly on his desk.

“you mute?” you asked, a bit coldly as johnny flinched at your tone. you tilted your head as you tried to understand him. he wasn’t like that hood dallas winston, but he wasn’t like any other greaser you’d seen before.

johnny swallowed. “no..” he said. you were utterly beautiful. albeit, a social, you were quite the jaw dropper.

“then could you.. maybe help me with this?” your demeanor changed, probably because you had realize johnny was no threat despite being a greaser. a sheepish smile grew on your face as you flashed the worksheet in front of him.

“thought w’could negotiate. i help you with the readin’, you help me with the math?” you said, tilting your head once again as you pointed at the filled worksheet below johnny, but he wasn’t paying any attention to where your finger pointed, his eyes remained on you.

his eyes flickered across your face, taking in every blemish and ridge of it. he was mesmerized by you. but he was conflicted. he could never have a chance with a soc, so why dream?

but then again, johnny thought, something is better than nothing.

“‘course.” he said.

for now, he can only dream until he could muster up the courage to speak more than one word to you.

one day, johnny thought.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“what’s the matter wit’you, dollface?”

“don’t call me that, hood.”

DALLY huffed, a tiny bit of smoke seeping through his lips from where a small opening lie where his cigarette was.

he had been following you around all day, bothering you on your way home. you held your books protectively against your chest, thinking for some reason he’d try and pull a move on you. he kept circling around you, like a vulture. “c’mon, jus’ one date.” he told you, hand coming to rest upon your shoulder before you shook him off.

you scoffed, “maybe in your dreams.”

dally tapped his foot impatiently as you stood in front of your house, a pristine exterior with some marble pillars. he knew it was a risk being on this side of town, but then again dallas winston was never much known for being safe.

“whatever, man.” he murmured. you winced as he threw his cigarette on your freshly cut lawn, and made his way back down the street.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him give up. you knew dallas winston as a greaser, a criminal, an asshole, and maybe a bit handsome although you’d never admit it. but you never once took him for a quitter.

you watched as he cockily walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he was on the lookout for any socs.

for some reason, you thought he’d try harder. did you want him to try harder?

no, you couldn’t’ve. dally wasn’t even worth your time. so why did he give up so easy? why did you wish he would’ve turned around, and kept bothering you?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“c’mon pretty thing!” TWO-BIT shouted out at you. he had been throwing pebbles at your bedroom window, ultimately scratching the glass with the heavier ones but the thought was nice.

your bedroom was on the second floor, facing the backyard. so watching two at the ground, yelling for you at night while your parents were asleep? not a good look for you.

you held a finger to your lips as your eyes widened, quietly telling two-bit to shut up.

you don’t think he got the message though, considering his grin never left his face, and the bottle didn’t leave his hand either. he flashed you your favorite candy bar, and waved a hand at you telling you to come down.

you looked back behind you, and back at two, giving him a thumbs up.

you put on a jacket over your nightgown, putting your sneakers on and tip-toeing down the stairs and out the back door.

you saw two-bit, taking chugs of his drink before his eyes fell on you. “hey baby! how you doin’?”

“fine, before you woke me up.” you said to which he gave you a small hug, immediately warming you up with his body heat. he tapped the candy bar against your back, which made you pull away to grab it.

“snagged you a sweet.”

“snagged or stole?”

“same thing, ain’t it? now c’mon darlin’, we got a whole night ahead of us!” two-bit said, pulling you away and helping you jump over your fence, like a gentleman.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“hey, y’mind passin’ me that wrench over there?” STEVE said, the creeper making a squeak as he rolled out from under the car and pointed you towards the clear drawers containing all the parts.

your face screwed up as you thought about all the dirt and oil that must be on those tools. you made a thinking noise, looking back at the drawers before steve tsk’ed.

“what? too worried about your purdy sleeves getting dirty from some oil?” he scoffed.

“‘m glad you think they’re pretty, at least.”

“just—! get me the wrench?” he said, brown eyes flickering up at you in your seat. “what’s the magic word?” you said, a grin resting on your face.

“i might as well go get it m’self.” steve started to roll the creeper further out so he could just get the tools on his own before you stopped him with a series of ‘no’.

“okay! just—,” you cringed at the plethora of rusty tools steve had im the drawers, and quickly dug through them. steve laughed as you shuffled through all of them, before whistling.

you turned your head towards him, only to find him waving the wrench at you with a shit-eating grin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ skdeojejwsozskw i hope you guys like this, it took me like a day to concoct 😭😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[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.

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

[cranberrv]

girly!reader — the introduction

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ girly!reader who only wears pink and lace, not owning a top that isn’t detailed with something dainty. even her pyjamas are lacy, and only her stuffed animals get to look at her different lace sets every single night. (she probably has lots of cute lingerie too, she only wishes she could put it to good use.)

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ girly!reader who is too much of a sweetheart to even think about saying something rude. even when she’s being disrespected, something in her heart aches for the person hurting her, only wishing them the best because they’re so obviously insecure and struggling. she’s ever so kind with her deliveries, choosing her words carefully.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ girly!reader who prances around telling everyone about her love life. she can’t help it, she gets so excited about the newest revolation in her life, everyone in tulsa has to know!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ girly!reader who crushes on elvis, hard. she would never admit it to her lover, but she used to have 6 posters of elvis on her wall, and she used to have a vendetta against every single girl that elvis was with. she even started doing her makeup like priscilla, anything to have her closer to her celebrity crush.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ girly!reader who is always reapplying her lipgloss, bank account always empty because of her collection of lip products and other makeup. she wishes she wasn’t so into greasers, because she wants someone who can afford to buy her makeup for her.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅girly!reader who dreams of owning a pink cadillac. maybe borrowing buck’s thunderbird every now and then is close enough.

[thewritersofdeceased]

DARRY CURTIS

PROMPT: THE GREASERS CALL YOU AND DARRY “MOM AND DAD”

PRONOUNS: SHE / HER FOR THIS ONE

Greasers. Everybody despised the greasers of Tulas. Y/N was one of them. Having the dislike of Soc’s, it was natural for her to have a distaste to them. After finding Johnny Cade, the friend of her boyfriend’s brother all bruised up and hurt from a soc, her hatred for the nice-dressed had grown stronger.

Here she sat in the living room of the Curtis household, waiting for the greasers to come back from a fight. Well, not exactly a fight but they had to go and make sure Pony was safe. Walking home from the movies in between Social and Greaser’s territories weren’t exactly safe. Especially for a fourteen year old who never carried around a switchblade like the rest of them.

On the sides of the armchair y/n sat in were a first aid kit and a bunch of bandages. On the floor consisted of more medical supplies. A sigh of relief escaped when she heard the cheering of each boy. Though… she assumed they would be tired after a fight like that. When the door opened, the first one in was Pony, who had a cut just below his jawline, directly on his neck.

“Pony! Sit down, let me clean your cut.” She spoke, almost like a mother as she stood from the arm chair and grabbed the first aid kit. Pony, being afraid to anger the (h/c)’d female, sat himself on the couch with Soda plopping himself down right after. Y/N stood in front of the boy, carefully holding his face in order to work on the cut without injuring him anymore.

Darry watched the situation, helping Steve with his bleeding nose as everything happened. Johnny was quiet, but he watched Y/N rather closely. Standing to his feet and slightly tugging her jacket, he spoke with a soft tone. “Mom-“ He froze. Soon as he said that single word, he froze.

This led the greaser group to look over to Johnny with a confused look on their faces. Except Pony. He didn’t look towards his friend, and rather looked back at Y/N. Whose eyes were widened for a moment. For a couple seconds, Y/N felt her heart begin to grow bigger. She smiled warmly at the black haired boy before speaking softly.

“Yes, Johnny?” She tilted her head as she spoke, but her warm and soft tone never faltered or disappeared. “When you’re done can you help me with my..?” He motioned towards his scar, frowning slightly. Y/N nodded in response, having gone back to working on Pony.

That was only a couple weeks ago. About two or three. Now Y/N stood in the kitchen, preparing food for every boy that would come around. Darry was out with Soda working, Dally had been off doing whatever(probably getting in trouble with the fuzz), Steve and Two-Bit had been hangin out, and Johnny and Pony were walking home from a movie together.

The Curtis house smelt like a whole restaurant, a buffet if you’d think. Y/N hummed as she cooked and placed everything out. It wasn’t until she heard the bickering between two boys, and two others trying to stop them. “C’mon, let me at him!” It was Two-Bit and Steve bickering like children. Per usual. But that’s what friends do sometimes.

Y/N hummed in response to hearing the bickering, taking off the gloves she wore and smiling when the boys had come through the house’s front door. Though… they paused. Soda was the first to speak through everything. “Why’s it smell good? Someone cook?” He questioned aloud, only giving a quick Look into the kitchen.

“Well, welcome home boys. Take showers then get yourselves down here for dinner, yeah?” Y/N spoke warmly to each of the boys. Soda stared with a look of confusion for a couple seconds. Darry was rather surprised. He wasn’t annoyed, no. He was genuinely surprised. Steve and Two-bit’s bickering had came to a stop before they shouted in unison. “I CALL DIBS ON THE SHOWER FIRST!”

And there it was. The bickering again. The two pushed each other out of the way, trying to go and reach the shower first. Though Y/N was not having it. “HEY! Quit your fightin’ or nobody’s getting dessert!” She shouted to the boys, only as Soda began to laugh. The sudden shout made Two and Steve grow quiet real quick. They were on the ground by this point, wrestling. “Sorry mom..” They spoke, standing to their feet and looking at the ground.

This led a confused shout to escape another boy who’d finally gotten here. Dally, who stood in the doorway, stared with confusion. “MOM!? The hell are you two on about!?” He asked quickly, going over to Y/N. Dally didn’t have a good family life, just like Johnny. For a couple seconds, there was bickering before Y/N felt herself get picked up. Dally was glaring daggers to Soda, Two-bit and Steve.

“Y/N’s me and Johnny’s mom, back up!” Dally shouted, holding Y/N close to him in a hug. Darry only watched. “Guys… she’s my girlfriend. And I’m not your dad.” He spoke sternly to the four boys. Though Dally stared at him with a blank face. “Sure, dad. Sure.” Maybe Soda and Pony would be the only two to not call Darry their dad. Though at this point, the oldest Curtis brother did act like their dad.

When everyone was home, finishing dinner and heading off to sleep wherever, Y/N and Darry cleaned the kitchen up. The soft humming of the female and the deeper harmonies of the male. “Hey sweetheart?” Darry spoke after the humming had came to an end by both of them. Y/N let out a soft “hm?” in response to the other. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her, and Darry’s chin going on her shoulder.

“We make good parents to this idiots, don’t we?” He then asked, earning a soft laugh. “That we do. That we do… they’re idiots, but we love them.” She whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head on Darry’s chest.

[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.

[johnnycakesswitch]

Some of y’all are so mean about Steve and Two-Bit omg 😭😭😭 some people act like their only personalities are Two-Bit being an alcoholic and Steve being mean to Pony and liking chocolate cake like let’s be fr. Let’s clear the air w some canon details about the two most forgotten greasers bc they deserve better and some of y’all pay them absolutely dust as if they’re not important to the story also

Let’s start w pookie Steve

• “Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with thick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated swirls.” Ok so here’s some physical description, I’ve seen so many people say that Pony only gave Steve one line of description, there’s actually much more in the rest of Steve’s paragraph 😀

• Pony goes on to describe Steve as “tacky, smart, and Soda’s best buddy since grade school.” He also says that Steve can lift a hubcap quicker and quieter than anyone else in the neighborhood and also knows cars inside out and backwards and can drive anything on wheels. Pony takes time to emphasize that Steve is in fact smart (he’s still in school so this is important) and how skilled he is when it comes to cars

• Steve has been arrested before for unspecified reasons

• Pony says that Steve and Soda both have too much energy and feelings, which is why they get into fights and drag races so often

• Steve (and Two-Bit and Soda for that matter) would’ve joined in on Dally’s dirty talking to Cherry

• Steve and Soda will buy Pony bottles of soda and let him help work on the cars when he goes to the DX

• Steve was the one who saw Johnny’s jacket on the ground when he got jumped and picked it up with the plan to bring it back to him and was the one who looked closer and saw the blood on the jacket and the ground. Also- “Steve closed his eyes for a second and muffled a groan as he dropped on his knees beside Soda.” Steve was clearly very distraught to see Johnny in the state he was after being beat up so badly, which mirrors his reaction to when Dally died. Steve feels very deeply and has a hard time hiding it

• Steve threatened Sylvia when she was talking to Johnny and gave Johnny a lecture about girls- big brother energy

• he has a “soft, bitter voice”

• Steve and Two-Bit were the ones who started goofing around the time they went to church and Steve was the one who dropped the hymn book and embarrassed Pony and Johnny 😭

• Soda and Steve never fought

• Steve’s dad kicks him out about once a week which really bothers Steve and is likely a reason for his hatred for his father which Pony mentions earlier on. His dad usually gives him money to make up for it. He often sleeps on the Curtis couch (Pony says it’s “usually” Steve on the couch)

• Two-Bit and Steve were so happy to see Ponyboy after the fire, they immediately started roughhousing and teasing him

• “Don't worry about it," Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. "They don't do things like that to heroes.” Steve was quick to reassure Pony that he wouldn’t get taken out of Darry’s custody

• the only time Soda was ever mad at Steve was when he called Darry all brawn no brain

• “Hate to tell you, buddy," Steve said, still flat on the floor, "but you have to wear clothes to work. There's a law or something.” Steve teasing Soda 😭

• Steve was “surprisingly angry” when Pony asked about Sandy, more than likely because he knew how upset Soda was about it

• Soda, Steve, and Pony all put in extra hair grease before the rumble to look cool

• he and Soda were “playing cards and arguing as usual” before the rumble

• Steve fights for hatred

• he had three broken ribs after the rumble. He looked “feverish and bewildered” when Pony came back from the hospital. Despite how hurt he was though, he immediately went running with everyone when Dally was in trouble

• “Steve stumbled forward with a sob, but Soda caught him by the shoulders” again, Steve was so visibly distraught when one of his friends was hurt, even more so now because Dally was dead

• Pony, Two-Bit, and Steve usually leave school together at lunchtime to go to the store

• Steve and Two-Bit were backing Pony when he used the bottle to defend himself from the Socs

• “Is that all that's bothering you, that switchblade?" a red-eyed Steve had snapped at him.” Just more of Steve and his emotions

So even though he is a side character, Steve is so much more developed than we give him credit for. He’s deeply loyal, emotional, has a strained relationship with his father, and would do anything for the people he cares about. Additionally, it’s so important that he’s Soda’s best friend too- who do we think was there for him when Pony ran away and Sandy left him or when Pony and Darry are arguing all the time?

Now for Two-Bit

• he would’ve come to get Pony from the movies in his car if Pony had asked

• Pony says life was one big joke to Two-Bit

• he had a wide grin and “couldn’t stop making funny remarks to save his life”

• famous for shoplifting and always mouthing off to cops

• he likes fights, blondes, and school

• Pony likes him a lot because he kept them all laughing at themselves and other things

• Pony says Two-Bit could put things into words good

• offered everyone cigarettes at the movies and paid for everyone’s drinks and popcorn

• Two-Bit gave Pony a similar lecture on girls to the one Steve gave Johnny

• Two-Bit “gallantly” offered to walk Cherry and Marcia the 20 miles home. He talked them into letting him drive them home which is where they were headed, to get his car, before Bob and Randy showed up

• “Two-Bit said, "Don't get mouthy, Ponyboy” his big brother energy is coming out y’all

• Two-Bit hit Pony hard upside the head when he said what he did about Johnny not being wanted at home

• “Shut up talkin' like that," Two-Bit said fiercely, messing up Johnny's hair. "We couldn't get along without you, so you can just shut up!” I’m crying

• he waved at everyone when they all turned to look at them after they all caused a ruckus in church 😭

• Johnny and Pony get Two-Bit and Darry on their team for football 😌 so we can assume Soda and Steve have Dally

• Two-Bit broke the windows in the school building

• Two-Bit got jumped while Pony and Johnny were gone but it wasn’t too bad because he’s a good fighter

• Dally and some other greasers wanted to jump Cherry when she came to talk to them but Two-Bit stopped them

• he was gonna go to Texas to look for Pony and Johnny 😔

• Pony says people like Two-Bit, Dally, and Tim Shepard forgot how to cry at a young age

• again, so excited when Pony got home. Picked him up and swung him around and immediately started making fun of his hair

• “What I like is the 'turn' bit," Two-Bit said, cleaning the egg up off the floor. "Y'all were heroes from the beginning. You just didn't 'turn' all of a sudden.” This quote is SO important. No, they didn’t just turn heroes. Two-Bit recognizes that Johnny and Pony had always been special even if others didn’t see it

• Two-Bit knew all about Pony’s nightmares and was interested in hearing about them when Pony told Darry about his dream

• immediately offers to babysit Pony when Darry is hesitant to leave him home alone

• Pony says it’s just about impossible to get mad at him

• Two-Bit wouldn’t take no for an answer when the nurse told them they couldn’t see Johnny

• he was closer to tears than Pony had ever seen him after snapping at Johnny’s mother

• gave Dally his switchblade, his prized possession, with zero hesitation when Dally asked

• could tell something was up with Pony and felt his head for a fever, really wanted to tell Darry but Pony said no

• Two-Bit fights for conformity

• he had four stitches in his cheek and seven in his hand after the rumble

• “Two-Bit came blubberin' over here with some tale about how you were running a fever before the rumble and how it was all his fault you were sick. He was pretty torn up that night.” He feels so guilty about Pony being sick :(

• was worried when he thought Pony was getting tough and relieved when he realized Pony was still his soft, sensitive self after picking up the broken glass

So we see that Two-Bit is definitely more developed than Steve and he is a super important character. He’s silly and goofy which is what they need sometimes in their hard lives, he’s got such a nurturing personality, he’s a gentleman at heart, and is so quick to praise/defend any of his friends, even against themselves like when Johnny talks bad about himself. Overall, he and Steve are both very much important to the story. Treat them better. The end.

[honeysmoonn]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! — dallas winston

a/n: flo did it so now i have to; he’s my rendition of dallas and the please please please music video

im imagining some highly esteemed soc daughter who’s parents are super well respected and rich

like she was a reputation to uphold

but she’s pretty and popular and a little bit of a party girl

that’s how she ends up in jail for the night; a night of drinking a little too much and tripping over her shiny black kitten heels as red and blue lights pulled into the driveway of whatever house she was at

in jail she sticks out like a sore thumb

i’m imagining her as some sort of jane birken/jean shrimpton style; like maybe this or this

because she’s just a little rich girl stuck in this stinky jail cell with a bunch of big scary guys:(

anyways she gets bailed out by her mom the next morning and she’s making her way out and she sees him—

he’s tall and he’s brunette and his face is bruised and he’s handcuffed; being dragged into the station by two police men

she’s immediately enamored by him, she doesn’t even notice she’s staring at him by the time he walks down the hall in slow motion

he’s just smirking at her all cocky and she knows she has to have him

her parents are obviously going crazy about it because he’s a greaser! and he’s a delinquent!

they keep telling her how bad he is, how stupid he is, all of it but she’s blinded by his pretty face

and boom they’re dating

it’s inevitable—opposites attract and they definitely attracted

but dallas is always dallas, he’s stupid

“please, please, please, don’t prove em right” she definitely says that to him after she bails him out of jail (the scene where brina is sitting on the hood of the car) and she’s like “you better not fuck up again and prove my parents right”

he fucks up again

anyways

we all know dallas has some enemies

and sometimes he just had to hash it out

and of course he’s gonna bring his pretty little doll girlfriend bc he just loves her so much

and she’s just so oblivious omg

thinking dal brought her to this cutesy little diner for a nice little date and then suddenly he’s dragging her to the back where a group of guys you don’t know sit at a table playing cards

“dal… what is this?” she asks him

he’s still holding tightly onto her hand, just as he had been the whole time

“jus’ give me a few minutes.”

so she sits there looking pretty as her boyfriend beats the shit out of some random guys

after that she’s like well fuck my boyfriend is a stupid cunt

and although she loves him she’s not letting him ruin her family’s reputation because he can’t keep his cool

“i beg you, don’t embarrass me, motherfucker” she tells him after she bails him out again

she’s always out here defending him though

at parties she heard another girl talking shit about him and she’s like “that’s just how he is babe” and it really is

she always the one to bail him out, she always one the that patches up his bruises,

she’s his one