#outsiders fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewulf · 10 months ago

Text

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

376 notes · View notes

only-lonely-star · 5 months ago

Note

hi! Can you do a Curtis sister imagine (she's older than pony but younger than soda) and the boys are sooo protective over her and scare away any boys who look at her so they think she's never even kissed a guy. Then she's at home alone and thinks the boys won't be home for a while and is making out with a guy in her room when Darry bursts in with the boys and they all lose their minds

୨୧ Not What It Looks Like ୨୧

~ Curtis Brothers (Curtis Sibling Reader)~

Warnings - Kissing, mild shouting and cursing, mild violence

Summary - You thought you had hours…

Author’s Note - Hii! I won’t be as busy this week so I’ll be sure to finish more requests as the week progresses, so sorry for the wait! Thank you so so much for the request, this one was fun to write, enjoy! 😽🫶🏼

Word Count - 2.4k.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄☆ ⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

(Quick A/N || I decided to name the boy’s character ‘Thomas’ just because I find it easier than saying ‘the boy’ a hundred times or something 😭)

The Curtis residence was always a busy place. Whether friends were over, or it was just another chaotic night - there was never a dull moment. Tonight, however, you were declared as '(Wo)Man of the House' by your oldest brother, Darrel. Ponyboy and Sodapop didn't seem to mind lending you the title for the night, you did most of the housekeeping and whatnot anyway.

Ponyboy could be found slicking his hair back, standing in front of the bathroom mirror attempting to look tuff - or so he thought. Sodapop was occupied with Darrel, the pair pacing around the house as they rallied themselves up for the night. They were all going on a ‘guys night out’…whatever that meant. You were standing around, waiting to wave them off for the night.

Ponyboy emerged from the bathroom, a look of excitement in his eye as he approached the others.

“You ready?” Darrel asked, giving him a firm pat on the back, smiling down to him. Ponyboy nodded and hooked his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, admiring Sodapop who stood beside him.

“Finally, took you ‘bout an hour to grease that hair up,” Sodapop chuckled, gently grazing his fingertips along the swoops of Ponyboy’s hair, combed back to utter perfection.

You let out a small sigh, a knowing grin creeping up on your face. You dismissed it as relief that your three rowdy brothers would give you some alone time. “So, are you guys…leaving…yet?”

Darrel raised an eyebrow, slowly stepping for the door as the other two followed. “Boy, someone sure is sick of us,” he snorted, the doorknob in the palm of his hand.

You sarcastically played along, shoving Sodapop and Ponyboy by the back of their shoulders with a scoff. “Sure am, get out.”

They exchanged small glances, Ponyboy holding up his hands in defense. “We’re goin’, we’re goin’…”

It didn’t take long for the two to file out, Darrel staying behind to have a word with you. He popped his hand on his hip, the other moving a stray strand of hair to rest behind your ear. His eyes met yours, a look of concern etched on his face. “Listen, you know I don’t like leaving you home alone,” he began, sensing your rebuttal a mile away.

“I’ll be fine, you ain’t gotta worry,” you assured him, your voice a rather gentle one. You knew that was the key to fooling him - it always was.

Darrel took your word for it, wrapping up his lecture before it even began. “No boys, no cookin’, no driving,” he spoke with finality, his index finger pointed to you as he reinforced the rules he set since the loss of your parents.

“I know!” you exclaimed, mildly frustrated with how protective he was acting. It would only be a few hours before he, Ponyboy, and Sodapop returned. It wasn’t like you were about to cause a disaster home alone - you’d done this countless times.

Darrel shook his head, wrapping an arm around the small of your back as yours wrapped around his chest. “Be back at eleven,” he murmured, pulling away and stepping outside the front door. You stepped outside as well, your feet kept on the steps as your brothers began to cruise on down the road. Waving them off with a smile, the boys reciprocated before disappearing into the horizon of the night sky.

You leaped for the side of the house, looking around frantically with a giggle of excitement. Your voice echoed, a mix of a whisper yet a beckon. “Thomas! Thomas, where are - …”

A hand grabbed your forearm, the boy hoisting himself up from within the small bushes along the side of your house. “I’m here.”

You leaped into his arms, picking away at small twigs and leaves that had fallen into his messy brown hair. Your legs wrapped around his waist the gentle feeling of your body against his, the boy’s hands holding you up from your hips. You chuckled, feeling the sweat practically dripping from his hair as you pecked his cheek. “How long have you been out here? I told you seven p.m!”

Thomas spun you around a few times before walking towards the front door that still stood wide open. “I left my place around six-forty, got here a minute ago,” he replied softly, carefully setting you down on the soft, beige sofa.

Your arms still yearned for him, even as he took a seat beside you, resting his arm over the top of the couch. He had only love in his eyes, admiring you from head to toe. “So, what’s the verdict?” he posed, grinning down at you, his free hand running through his hair.

“No boys,” you restated, remembering Darrel’s rules with a small sigh of annoyance. You’d gone this far anyway - so what did it matter? “But Darry said he’ll be back ‘round eleven with Soda and Ponyboy.”

Thomas’s grin only widened from there, settling himself into the couch further. “Oh so we got lots of time, hm?”

You tilted your head to the side, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Somethin’ like that,”

This felt a little too risky, sneaking a boy around in the living room of all places. They wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, but it still felt strange. Standing from the sofa, you tugged on Thomas’s wrist. “Let’s go to my room, I don’t feel safe here,” you joked, a small shake of your head as you glanced to the unlocked door. Thomas was more than happy to oblige, following you to your very empty yet feminine bedroom.

“So this is the little hide-out, huh?” he spoke teasingly as he glanced around, taking in the sight of clothes everywhere and a small vanity pushed to the corner of the room, across from your bed. He shut the door behind him, hesitating on whether to lock it or not. You sat down on the edge of the pink, ruffled bedding, clutching a pillow into your arms tightly.

“I guess it is,” you smiled softly, his charming gaze reeling you right in to where he wanted you. He stood in front of you, his hand moving to cup your jaw. You didn’t mind the touch of course, you were addicted to any touch from him.

Thomas removed his hand before sitting on the bed beside you, reaching out for the pillow. You reluctantly let go of it, knowing Thomas was about to make a bold move of some sort. You two were alone and absolutely infatuated with each other. He set the pillow aside, pressing his hand to your waist as he leaned his head closer to yours. “You’re beautiful,” he grinned, closing the distance between the two of you as his lips met yours.

Your eyes darted shut, one hand holding you propped up, the other resting atop his shoulder. This was no short peck, this was a deep and almost passionate kiss. You obviously reciprocated, the situation of being home alone too good to go to waste. You doubled his passion and added force to your kisses. Thinking fast, Thomas began to lean back as his head rested against the mattress. His hand found your waist, pulling your body flush against his. Thomas could feel your grin against his lips, his other hand moving to keep your jaw in his palm, ensuring your kisses didn’t stop any time soon. You pulled away panting, your smile never once faltering. “I think we should stop, I hear a car…” you began to say, a car door shutting nearby. The sound was eerily close - but then again your brothers weren’t scheduled to be home for a few hours.

Thomas gave a firm head shake, pulling your jaw closer. “Nope, it hasn’t even been an hour,” he reminded you, locking his lips onto yours once more.

You weren’t about to turn him down, so you did as told and continued, your head moving up and down with slight movements. Thomas’s tongue slipped in between your lips, the sensation was both new and a bit alarming. A small groan left your now parted lips, running your hand through his hair.

The sound of shuffling feet outside your bedroom door should’ve been a dead giveaway to stop - but your mind was cloudy and only focused on Thomas. It was far too late to stop now, even as the doorknob turned and you were aware someone was home, you didn’t have the time to stop.

“I forgot to bring my w-…” Darrel began, the door opening in a swift movement as he stood in the doorway absolutely baffled. His knuckles were now white as he squeezed onto the brown leather wallet in the palm of his hand. His instincts led him to toss the wallet with all of the force he could muster, landing directly on the boy you were laid atop of.

You pulled away in an instant, a small trail of shared saliva being wiped away using the back of your hand as the soft groans came to an immediate halt.

Your other brothers, Ponyboy and Sodapop, stood behind Darrel with displeased looks. “Come on, it doesn’t take this long to -…” Sodapop was quickly hushed as he too caught sight of scene.

Darrel stomped forward, his hands shaking with anger as he shouted at Thomas - the boy unbeknownst to their early arrival. “Get the hell out, the fuck are you doing with my little sister-?!” he shouted, his fists unraveling themselves to tug at Thomas’s shirt, stretching it out as he yanked him closer for answers.

You had never heard Darrel shout like that ever. You sprinted off the bed and stood in the opposite corner of the room as you watched Thomas nearly get a beating for the kiss.

Sodapop caught you off guard, his hand firmly grasping your bicep as his eyes bore into yours. “Who’s this boy?” he asked, his tone filled with utter disappointment - but at least it wasn’t anger like Darrel’s.

“It’s not what it looks like - Thomas and I just…” you began sheepishly, your eyes unable to make eye contact with him out of guilt.

Your eyes flickered over to Darrel briefly, watching him holler like you’d never seen before. Thomas nodded his head along vigorously, his eyes wide with fear as he desperately tried to free himself from Darrel’s grasp. Ponyby’s annoyed voice snapped you out of it, your attention directed towards him. “That boy from school? Really?”

Sodapop spoke up again, shoving your shoulder slightly as his expression held a stern look. “It don’t matter where he’s from, you know you ain’t allowed to have boys over.”

You glanced between Sodapop and Darrel, watching as he had to drag Thomas out of your bedroom, the yelling not yet ending. You swallowed the guilt down and nervously chewed the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry~” you began, your hands fidgeting as you thought about the hour long lecture you’d receive from Darrel.

Sodapop began mumbling words of annoyance under his breath at the newfound information you’d had some secret boyfriend going on. None of your brothers ever would have expected such a thing from you - hell, the last thing they would suspect from you was to be caught kissing some boy while they were gone. “Can’t trust her… we just can’t…” he mumbled to Ponyboy who looked equally as pissed.

Moments later, Darrel had his jaw still clenched with Thomas now long gone. He made his way to you with his fists balled up and resting by his sides. “You’ve got explaining to do,” he grumbled, his voice thick with anger. You’d betrayed his trust, Sodapop’s, and even Ponyboy’s.

Exhaling deeply, you took a step back, your hand trembling in fear. “I just thought -…” your voice was interrupted by Darrel’s.

“It would be fun to sneak a boy around? Behind our backs? Especially after I said no boys?” His arms crossed as his stern gaze seemed to deepen further.

You didn’t reply, you stood there matching his stance only yours was out of shame. You knew you were going against their set rules.

Darrel shook his head as he let out a sigh he’d been holding in for way too long. “We just wanna protect you, that’s all. That’s all I want,” he said in a somehow gentle tone, wrapping an arm around your back, the other gesturing for a group hug.

Sodapop and Ponyboy circled around you, hugging you tightly. It felt as if the mood had lightened a bit now that Thomas was gone and you were back in the protective arms of your brothers. Sodapop nuzzled his forehead against the top of your head, chuckling softly. “So you’ve had some boyfriend all along?”

Darrel stiffened but held back from lashing out yet again. Ponyboy grimaced and swatted your back with a teasing snort. “Him of all people too?”

You broke the hug off, having to pry off their arms as you finally cracked a sheepish smile. “Not anymore - I think Darry traumatized that poor guy,” you giggled, the guilt subsiding to a feeling of amusement. Sure it was a messy way to break the ice with your brothers - but it was bound to happen eventually.

Darrel gave your back a firm pat, Ponyboy and Sodapop stepping for the door to your bedroom, snickering and cracking jokes. “I forgot my wallet, I came back and thought I’d check on you,” he explained, picking up the wallet he used on Thomas.

You winced at the memory of it hitting him upside the head, the shock initially hitting you as you scrambled off of him. “I was wondering why you came so early…” you remarked playfully.

“I know why you were tryin’ to kick us out so bad now,” Darrel shot back, an equal amount of sarcasm laced in his voice. He shoved the leather wallet back into his pocket.

He stepped for the door to your bedroom once more, glancing back at you. “No boys. Ever.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, stepping closer to him to argue on the topic. Darrel was already down the hallway as you chased him down. “You said when i’m eighteen - …”

Darrel cracked open the front door with a head shake. “Eighteen, but I better not catch you and *Thomas* again,” he huffed, hopping down the stairs, his feet on the white cement, “or any boy for that matter.”

You sighed and waved him off for a second time, this time with the intention of following the rules. You vowed you’d never risk something like that again. “Eighteen!”

231 notes · View notes

foottoe101001 · 5 months ago

Text

Darry and Paul in the locker rooms getting ready to play foot ball

@crow2222

#the outsiders #the outsiders darry #the outsiders ponyboy #darry curtis #ponyboy michael curtis #darry x paul #football #the outsiders musical #outsiders oc #the outsiders 1983 #outsiders fanfic #the outsiders fanfiction #sodapop the outsiders #the outsiders dally

159 notes · View notes

twobitsblade · 10 days ago

Note

Hi! Can you write a story about Dally teasing / messing with a shy female reader who is super jumpy and gets blushy easily? I can picture him jumping out at her to scare her or tease her with tickling knowing it makes her blush. Idk just some suggestions :) thanks!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ every man gets his wish

written by @ twobitsblade

[ author’s note: i hope this is what you wanted, anonymous!! i’m new to writing long-form stories, if you can’t tell. feel free to request more stuff, such as long stories, headcanons, blurbs, or anything you want, really, in my inbox. ]

dallas “dally” winston was many things: handsome, a gangster, somewhat of a jerk, but most importantly, he was yours. and today was just another small day that solidified that—your 1st-year anniversary! you and dallas’s relationship had been smooth overall, except for the occasional argument. you were walking to the local diner to meet him there, although you knew he’d probably take his sweet time because, according to him, “oh for god’s sake, woman, i’ve got stuff to do.”

you were on your way when all of a sudden, you heard a loud, ear-piercing shriek, causing you to jump backward and drop all your school materials onto the sopping wet concrete. when you turned to face the sound, you immediately tasted something sugary in your mouth. you turned to see a grinning dallas winston. you giggled as you ran toward him, beginning to playfully pound your fists against his chest.

“aw, dally, you scared me!” you said, your breathing still slightly uneven.

“i know, sugar. i saw that,” he grinned, wrapping his forearms around your neck and pulling you to his chest. it felt more like an affectionate chokehold rather than a hug, but what could you do? you weren’t taking it too seriously because, why should you? you knew that if any supplies were seriously damaged, he’d just steal more for you.

you both walked into the diner and sat down in a booth the color of cherries. soon, the waitress, an older woman in her mid-thirties, approached, and you began to order the usual: two vanilla milkshakes, two burgers, and one large fry, which dallas would scarf down and you’d peck at. as you were ordering, his hands suddenly reached your waist, causing you to let out a sharp sound that was a mix of a giggle and a yelp. everyone in the restaurant turned to look at you. amidst the embarrassment and your face turning a pale pink,

you felt dallas’s head rest on your shoulder, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your heart still going a mile a minute from the way people were staring at you a moment ago. finishing your order, you waited for the waitress to leave before resting your head on the table.

“oh, god, you’re something else, winston.”

120 notes · View notes

18caramel · 9 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫! (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐡𝐜𝐬! 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

A/N I hate spiders ewwww but here you go. no spiders were harmed :) no specific terms for the reader ♡ pics from Pinterest

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

when Soda hears you scream "oh my, it's huge!" Darry gives him a weird look but laughs it off

he immediately rushes into his room to see what was happening

he sees you standing on top of the bed, terrified

he doesn't understand at first and jokes about it

but then sees that you are very overwhelmed and tries to comfort you

when he takes off his shoe you beg him to let it run away or take it outside

he giggles and tries to catch it and you kind of forget your fear for a moment

he's so gentle with it just like with any other creature when he finally catches it with a towel

you watch him let it go and then ask him to wash his hands

Soda rolls his eyes but goes

when he comes back you pull him into a tight hug

you both fall on top of the bed and Soda mocks you, saying "if it was huge, I must be giant"

you roll your eyes at him and he pulls you into a passionate kiss

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

you were hanging Curtis’ clothes outside to dry because it was a summer evening

Darry was tired from his shift so he was smoking a cigarette on the porch

suddenly you scream as you see a huge black spot on the white t-shirt

Darry rushes to come and help you out but you both get stuck in the wet bedsheet that you just hung up

both of you fell on the floor laughing about it

but now you have to wash it again

and then you see the spider crawling on Darry's hair

you scream again but can't get up

Darry can't stop laughing at you

he gently takes the spider WITH HIS BARE HANDS and throws it far away

when you both get up he spins you around, still happy about what has happened

you apologize for falling down and wrecking the clothes

he kisses you on your forehead saying it was okay and he actually had fun

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

you were driving with him, headed home

he was talking to you about his promotion when all of a sudden you saw a spider

Steve is very pissed at you for making his heart stop

you understand in a way because you were on the road

but he gets it too, he knows you hate them

he pulls up to a random house and tries to catch it, but you can't be emotionally there because you feel trapped

when he finally gets it out of the car he comes over to you to give you a hug

you cry into his shoulder because you got very emotional and scared

even if Steve is very tired from his shift and also dirty he pulls you into a hug

he tells you that it's okay

he reminds you that it was harmless but knows you won't ever listen

you thank him for being there for you

but you still can't forget about it when you get inside

Steve turns on the radio and you dance together

you are so happy to be with him and he's soooo happy too! aw

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

you almost faint when you see a spider in Dally’s bathroom

there was a huge party at Buck's so Dally is waiting for you in his room, making sure nobody would storm inside

when he hears you scream he straight away pulls out his g*n

you ran out of the bathroom half naked yelling about a spider

you ask him if he was really about to use it on a freaking spider and you laugh so hard

but Dally is not in a mood so he is really about to show you that he's capable of doing it

but lets go of that idea as soon as he realizes that you are half naked

he kind of wants to make out

but you tell him that he has to get rid of it immediately

as he tries to catch it you are even more terrified

Dallas is mocking you when he catches it with a cup

you ask him if he's going to let it escape but he says no

you get mad at him and go to bed

he knows you are watching him slowly open the window and let the spider go

he rolls his eyes when he sees you giggling

"now you owe me" he says, taking your hand to go and shower together ;)

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

when you call Ponyboy to rescue you he is so freaking nervous but tries to hide it

you saw it crawling near his books

when you tell him where you saw it, he panics even more

you jump on the bed, waiting for your hero to do something

he wants to laugh it off but can't

Pony is too scared to ruin one of his books so he lifts each one carefully trying to spot your enemy

Pony could never kill a spider

so when he finds it he slides it on a piece of paper and goes to throw it outside the window

you give him a peck on his cheek making him blush

he gets sooooo shy but also proud of himself

you go and lie down together on the bed

you know he was scared too but chose not to say anything about it

he is acting all heroic and you secretly love it

(yes he will check if anything happened to his books when you leave)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

Johnny hates spiders

but he loves you more (duh)

so when he hears you scream in your room, he rushes back from the kitchen to help you

neither of you can spot it any longer, so you both fall asleep

Johnny is there to comfort you during the night

he tells you that it probably went away

but in the morning when you go to the bathroom you see a giant spider in the corner of the wall

you scream again and run back to your room

this time Johnny takes a deep breath in and takes your slipper

but you tell him that you want it to live

it creates an even bigger challenge because Johnny could never touch it

both of you sit on the bed and talk about your fears

you both decide to do it together

he grabs a piece of paper and you bring a cup

in the end you succeed and let the spider go outside

you are very proud of yourselves for doing something so brave

Johnny is so grateful to have you as a partner

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭

he actually loves spiders and insects and you know it

so when you see a spider in the living room of Curtis' house you run to the kitchen to find him

he was eating cake

he didn't care at first but then was intrigued

he started asking you all sorts of questions like how big and what species it was

you roll your eyes and he laughs

but he knows you despise them so he actually lets go of his cake (wow) and runs into the living room

he makes a joke about the spider wanting to watch Mickey with you

you can't help but laugh too (come on its funny)

Two-Bit gently grabs it and even tries to touch it

you're so disgusted that you leave the room

when he comes back he makes a sad face saying that you're too scared of them

then he jokes that if you want to build the future together you must accept his love for spiders

you playfully slap him saying it will never happen

you both chill on the couch while Two-Bit is busily thinking about naming that spider

then he wants to prank one of his friends (Pony ofc) with it but you talk him out of it (thankfully)

you gently kiss his lips, forever grateful to have someone like him by your side whenever you feel scared.

#the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #dallaswinston #ponyboy michael curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #x reader #dallas x reader #pony x reader #the outsiders oneshot #steve randle #darry x reader #darry curtis x reader #johnny cage #johnny cade x reader #dally x reader #the outsiders 1983 #outsiders fanfic

366 notes · View notes

claritys-silly-things · 25 days ago

Text

I forgot I ever wrote this so imma give it to you now outsiders tumblr. It’s unfinished and also I haven’t read through it so whatever typos are there are just there ig

Ponyboy stumbled through the front door of his house and collapsed on the couch. Today had been busy.

It was the end of his freshman year, so there were lots of tests, and he had a track meet right after. Not to mention he had stayed up studying and barely ate anything because his anxiety over testing was too much for him to keep anything down.

Needless to say, Pony was exhausted. But he wasn’t able to rest just yet.

“Ponyboy, is that you?” he heard Darry call from the kitchen.

Pony groaned and stood up. “Yeah. Coming.”

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha need?”

Darry looked up from the vegetables he was cutting. “Some help with dinner would be nice.”

Pony looked at the ingredients Darry was using and came to a conclusion the older boy was making soup. He checked the potatoes in the pot and decided they were cooked enough and drained them.

They finished the dinner, mashing all the veggies and mixing them with milk and seasoning. Darry cut a few slices of bread and started to portion the soup into bowls. Ponyboy went to set the table.

As he was readjusting the napkins for the fifth time, Pony heard the front door open and shut. He watched as Johnny walked inside and peeked around the corner to see if anyone was in there. Then he saw Ponyboy and walked over.

“Hey Pone,” he said. He sounded about as tired as Pony did.

“Hiya, Johnnycakes,” Ponyboy said, trying to wake himself up a bit now that Johnny was here. “You hungry?”

Johnny paused for a minute before nodding. Pony gestured to a chair and went to fetch more stuff to set his spot at the table.

As he walked into the kitchen, Pony said, “Johnny’s here,” in Darry’s general direction before grabbing more silverware and walking back out to the dining room.

“So,” Pony started as he placed down the spoon and fork he had grabbed on the table, “What brings you over this time?”

Johnny looked up at Ponyboy. “Same shit as always, man…”

Pony sighed sadly and walked behind Johnny. He grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“It’s okay Johnnycakes. One day you’ll leave those wretched people and we can go live out in the country or something.”

Pony leaned forward and turned his head to look at Johnny. “Won’t we?”

Johnny chuckled. Pony always got more cheery and loose when he was tired. He placed his hand over one of Pony’s.

“We will.”

Pony smiled and stood up straight again, shaking Johnny’s shoulders as he spoke.

“Yesss, it’ll be so fun. The scenery will be so nice, and we could put flowers on the windowsill—“

“And you could read us stories, and outside we could have a garden! We just wouldn’t work too hard!”

Pony laughed as Johnny joined in his fantasizing. He leaned forward and hugged Johnny’s shoulders from behind, sighing.

“It’s real nice talking to you, Johnny…”

Pony was so relaxed he could fall asleep standing up at that point. And he just might’ve if Sodapop hadn’t walked in.

“What, uh- Whatcha doin’ there, Pone?” Soda said, voice faltering. He was trying not to laugh.

Pony shot up so fast he almost fell over.

“Whaddya mean?” He shook his head and sat down in the chair next to Johnny.

“Y’know what? Never mind,” Sodapop said, taking the seat across from Pony. “So. What’s for dinner.”

“We made cream of potato soup and there’s some bread to eat with it,” Pony said, telling both Soda and Johny because he realized he never told Johnny what they were gonna eat.

“Oh, hell yes.”

Pony snorted at Soda’s response before turning back to Johnny.

“You staying the night, Johnny?”

Johnny thought for a moment. It was nice enough weather that he could stay in the lot, but honestly, he didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I’ll stay tonight. I can sleep on the couch,” he decided.

“Naw, I’ll just sleep in the spare room or somewhere else,” Soda replied.

Pony raised an eyebrow at how quickly Soda decided.

“So quick to get away from me, huh brother?” Ponyboy bantered.

“And what if I am,” Soda said back jokingly. They met each other’s eyes with mischievous grins for a second before Soda broke eye contact and shrugged.

“But actually, I don’t want Johnny sleeping on the couch, cause he’s obviously tired,” Soda gestured towards Johnny’s disheveled look, “And I know he’s more comfy sleeping around you.”

Ponyboy reddened slightly at that. “O-okay.”

Thankfully, Darry started bringing out servings to everyone and they dug in. Well, Pony prayed first, a habit he’d gotten from his parents, and then he ate. After basically not eating all day, the soup tasted like the most delectable thing ever.

Darry sat down at the head of the table and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before asking, “So how was everyone’s day?”

Soda was the first one to speak up. “It was good. Some girls came into the DX today. There was this one girl named Sandy, she seemed really nice.”

Pony looked over to see Soda a little dreamy-eyed and sighing. He scoffed.

“What? Can’t a guy have a little crush on a chick every now and then?”

Pony snickered and rolled his eyes. Darry was stifling a laugh as well.

“What about you Ponyboy? How was your day?” Darry cut in before they went on any longer and it turned into a back and forth.

“Eh, it was fine. Tiring as hell, but there wasn’t really anything too special about the day I guess,” Pony answered between bites of food.

Darry hummed in acknowledgment. There was a silence while everyone ate a few bites of food. Finally, after a minute or two of quiet, Darry asked Johnny, “What about you, Johnny? Anything noteworthy happen today?”

Johnny looked up from his bowl, spoon halfway to his mouth. He put it down and thought for a minute.

“Um…I basically did the same things as Ponyboy. Lots of tests and stuff. I’m sure they were different because uh…we’re in different grades. I don’t think I did too well. I just hope I don’t get held back…”

Johnny paused for a moment and everyone waited.

“I- uh… Got kicked out of the house again. Same ol’ same ol’ I guess.”

Everyone looked at Johnny with empathy and a bit of pity. Johnny didn’t like being pitied, but it happened anyways.

Darry spoke first. “One of these days we’ll get you out of those monsters’ care and you can come stay here or wherever else and never have to deal with them again.”

Johnny nodded. He heard a similar sentiment pretty much daily from different members of the gang and just accepted it every time. He knew them meant it, and it felt nice to know someone cared.

Suddenly he felt Pony squeeze his hand from under the table.

“Don’t forget you can still stay here now. You don’t gotta be scared that you can’t,” Ponyboy said, looking at Johnny.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Johnny said with a small smile.

Eventually, everyone has finished their dinner and started to clean up. Once the table was cleared and he dishes were washed, everyone started to get ready for bed.

Ponyboy lent Johnny some pajamas and they sat together on Pony and Soda’s bed. Darry came in to say goodnight to the two.

“Don’t stay up too late, boys.”

“You really don’t gotta worry, Dar,” Pony laughed, already getting under the covers. “I am spent.”

Darry chuckled and turned the light off. “Goodnight, Pony. Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodanight, Darry,” they both said before Darry shut the door.

Within a few minutes, Pony was already asleep. He could be the heaviest sleeper in the world. He’s out in seconds and will stay out until the person he’s sleeping with leaves.

Johnny was the complete opposite, a result of the household he grew up in. The slightest noise would wake Johnny up, and it was hard for him to get to sleep in the first place. And he seemed to be having that problem right now.

51 notes · View notes

dallasgallant · 3 months ago

Text

American remains- Ghost Au lore post

I do have a eventual actual fic coming for this au so it won’t be as extensively written out here like for my vampire au, it helps that it’s also more canon aligned so there’s not too much extra world building involved.

World-

The world will be that of the canon world just with a tad more belief in ghosts/ they exist. I’d think it’d be easy to believe in legends and ghost when driving alone at night in a plains state anyway.

With that in mind it wouldn’t be uncommon to see a cowboys final ride or a soldiers last stand play out again and again. The people of Tulsa know it’s not just a building settling or the air conditioner.

It’s easy to believe if you open yourself to it, but you never expect your encounter to be with someone you knew. Ponyboy didn’t.

Ghosts-

All types of ghosts exist in this world, a lot of them being the more grounded ‘real life’ orbs and cold spots and simpler manifestations like that. There was moments that replay but aren’t a direct ghost more shadows of the past, buildings absorb negative energy and tragedy etc.

I want to focus more on direct apparitions as that’s what Johnny and Dally would be classified as, a bit of the standard fair when it comes to ghosts… sudden or violent death, stuck in this plane etc.

But with a twist, I really want this au to explore the cycles of grief and how it’s a non linear thing- and in this case affects the living and the dead. In the end no one moves on entirely…

It’s all about what makes a ghost or what makes a person stay, the cycles of grief and trauma, the weight people carry of a place and time or someone. The power of memory!

A huge inspiration for this au, beyond cowboy and civil war ghosts was the line towards the end of the book where Pony is thinking about boys who crumble under street lamps and jump at their own shadow and even himself— about how it’s too late for some but not others.

And it reminds me of American Remains by the Highwaymen and its chorus:

We are heroes of the homeland, American remains. We live in many faces and answer many names. We will not be forgotten, we won't be left behind. Our memories live on in mortal minds. And poets pens, we'll ride again.

How broader issues connect people in their struggle and how people get left behind over and over but are never forgotten- they come back. They’re simultaneously forgotten and immortalized - so many alike but also individual. Pony already wrote about them…

The thought that memory and pain bind. People die but ideas don’t.

It’s late and I really hope it’s understandable how this connects to ghosts and grief.

The au isn’t all deep subjects sometimes… it’s just neat spooky stuff.

Ghosts have a lot more agency when it comes to ‘moving on’ than traditional stories, it’s that they trap themselves. Or forget. At the end of the day ghosts are human- their cycles are too.

Unfinished business is less of a task and more of something they have to figure out- find acceptance/peace with.

Ghost lore-

A lot of haunting involves utilizing energy and radio frequencies to interact with the rest of the world. In the modern (1960s) age- radio and power lines are abundant. Ghosts prefer to be visible— with visibility comes personhood. It’s not constant, depending on energy and their connection it could be hard to keep it up.

Ghosts appear as they died, in most cases. Johnny tends to… flicker. Sometimes it’s a hospital gown, sometimes it’s jeans and a shirt but the burns remain. When haunting and not just wandering he’d prefer to be clothed.

[Included picture reference for Ponyboy as he’s the only of the living gang to undergo a more ‘drastic’ change. The others would just look a little older.]

Dally may constantly bleed but his blood will not stain anything, it disappears a few minutes after he does. What will stain is a residue left behind from ghost interacting with objects (fun non angsty lore)

To communicate with the living they’d have to manipulate radio, to those they speak with they’ll be a warm crackle to their voice as they speak through it … the voice always sounds distant too despite being right in front of you. (Sort of like making themselves a spirit box)

Johnny and Dally are both Semi-cognizant at the start of the au, both hyper aware of death and the passage of time but for them no time has passed. It is always then. Stuck in a place and time mentally and physically.

Out there on the sides of roads, out there in the dark waiting to be noticed and spoken to. Their main sort of “territory” is the roads and fields leading to windrixville, only sometimes making it fully back to Tulsa.

There’s been several times pony thought he saw them but it isn’t until they show up in the backseat of his car one late night drive it’s revealed. He’s driven by enough times, the ghosts get tired of waiting. Their first interaction is brief as pony nearly swerves off the road.

The two of them want desperately to reconnect with the gang, I’ve recently heard this but they “haunt for company.”

Don’t quite know where it’ll go yet but I’d love to hear ideas or see where others take it :)

Living-

Since this au is a tad more tied to canon these are also my general future headcanons, so if you see them in other works…

Ponyboy: 17. more of a troublemaker than he was as a young teen. He’s not doing anything too wild but will jack a car or two, gotten his grades back on track but is unsure where he wants to go with his life. Currently working at a grocery store to help out.

Soda: 19. started a career as a trucker, is around less than usual but still communicates with everyone via radio (Steve had begged for one to be put in at the DX) and phone calls when he gets the chance

Darry: 23. still working the same two jobs but is aiming towards a bookkeeping focus (pony is trying to push him that way) can understand Pony a little better, is more worried about Soda on the road at the moment. Better adjusted as he managed to keep them all together and Pony is set to graduate down the line.

Steve: 20. Graduated high school! Is still at the DX working on cars, he worked towards a managerial position and hopes to own a mechanic shop of his own someday or work up to a dealership. Had a radio installed at the station so he and pony can talk with Soda more often than waiting for phone calls, he gets along better with Pony.

Two-bit: 21. Ultimately got his GED! Like Pony he’s not sure what he is going to do with his life, is looking for a job (which Steve won’t let him live down)

79 notes · View notes

damthosefandoms · 3 months ago

Text

my life has changed in oh so many ways

(ao3 link)

Summary:

"You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who've picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

"It just ain't fair you never got any help!"

“You told me you wanted to be a teacher here when you grow up, Sodapop. But if you want to be a teacher you have to work! What do you think would happen if I came to school everyday and did nothing?”

“I ‘unno.”

“I’d get fired! So if I were you, I’d pick up that pencil and start writing.”

Soda puts his head down on his desk and cries. His teacher just sighs and walks away. She’s giving up on him just like everyone else.

He’s a lost cause.

He just wanted help.

Soda slams the door to their dad’s old truck and tries to control his breathing. He waits for Darry to drive off, to drop Ponyboy at the middle school, where their genius little brother only has one month left of seventh grade. Soda has what feels like centuries left of tenth; but the piece of paper hidden in his sorry excuse for a backpack will change that.

Steve jogs up to him and goes, “You remember it today?”

“I shoved it under my pillow and couldn’t sleep all night ‘cause of it. Yeah, I remembered it.”

“They gonna take it covered in drool?”

Soda swings at him, but Steve just dodges and switches to walk on his other side. They pause in front of the doors, so Soda can get the withdrawal form out.

The main entrance to Will Rogers High School is intimidating, but not as intimidating as what lies beyond the doors. Most kids—greasers and socs alike—don’t give it a second thought as they walk in every morning, but Sodapop Curtis isn’t most kids, and the paper in his hand proves it.

He’s never even driven by this place without wanting to throw up.

“Seriously, man. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. I know Darry’ll kill you, but we talked about this, we all got your back and Two-Bit or me are gonna drive ya to school every day and you can just walk to the DX for work, say you’re working just part time every afternoon now, he’ll never—”

“It ain’t Darry I’m worried about. He’ll be mad as the day is long, I don’t give a damn. Dad gave the okay, it ain’t up to Darrel at all. Never was. But Pony’s gonna take it hard and I can��t stand that.”

Soda gives it three classes before he feels sick to his stomach. He’s got the form folded up in the pocket of his dad’s favorite flannel, the same one he’s worn practically every day since the accident. Darry’s always getting on him about giving it a rest and wearing something else—“Everyone knows we’re poor! No need to make them think we don’t wash our damn clothes!”—but to Soda it’s like a security blanket. It’s also one the few shirts he has that don’t make him want to rip his skin off while wearing it. And, you know, his dad always cut the tags off.

He doesn’t even ask his history teacher to let him use the bathroom, just gets up and leaves. He’s told to sit down but he doesn’t because he’s a greaser and nobody expects obedience from him, anyway. He doesn’t look back as he walks out, just reaches into his pocket and takes out the form. It’s the only piece of paper he’s ever put in there without crumpling. He absent-mindedly hums a little tune while he walks—“Help!” by the Beatles, which is one of his favorite songs. It’s a few years old but he heard it on the radio again recently and it’s catchy, not that he could ever admit that to any of his east side buddies—and he unfolds the form. He wants to read through it one more time before he hands it in.

He knows what it says in theory, but there’s so many words on there, and the font is so small that his eyes kind of glaze over, but he keeps his eyes glued to the page while he walks.

Until he collides with something and it flies out of his hands. He looks up and there’s a girl in front of him—ohgodit’sCherry—and he immediately goes to help her up. She looks at him for a second, eyes wide and he thinks maybe her cheeks might be as red as his are her hair, but she ignores his hand, so instead he goes to pick up her books for her.

“Sorry,” Soda mumbles, somehow briefly forgetting that he’s not supposed to be saying stuff like that to soc girls, he’s got a reputation to uphold, but glory, his Mama taught him manners and he’d be damned if he didn’t use them. And deep down he knows Cherry isn’t like the other soc girls because she was nice to him once in first grade and he’s never ever forgotten it.

He nearly shudders at the memory. The words “consonant digraph” are not ones he remembers anymore, all these years later, but way, way back when he was learning them he wanted to cry at the mention of it.

He’s brought back to first grade. It’s sometime in the beginning half of the year, and they’re doing some cut-and-glue activity with partners. He’s been paired with Sherri Valance because he’s always paired with her. They sit next to each other because their class sits in alphabetical order by first name, and they always do partner work with their neighbors.

There’s muffled yelling down the hall and another first-grade teacher pokes her head in and asks for backup, ‘cause one of her problem students is throwing chairs. Their teacher tells them she’ll be right back and heads out. Soda hears somebody who wasn’t in his class last year mutter to their friend, “Dallas, probably.” They see the principal speed-walking down the hall through the doorway, and then everyone loses interest and starts to get to work.

Sherri taps Soda on the shoulder.

“Can you write our names for me?” she says. “I’m going to go get scissors and stuff.”

She gets up and Soda looks at her nametag. He takes a whole minute to decode it. Sherri.

Goddamn digraphs. /sh/ and /ch/ are his worst enemies lately, and she’s got one of them in her name. He knows it’s real sad that he can barely tell which one. He feels butterflies in his stomach as he picks up his pencil. In the best possible handwriting he can muster up—writes her name. He is pretty sure he wrote it correctly, tries to read it aloud, and thinks he’s doing well until one of the kids at the desk pair behind him, Randy Adderson, laughs.

“What’d you just say?”

Soda is starting to understand now why Darry keeps telling him to stay away from the kids with the nice backpacks and brand-name shoes.

“You’re copying off her nametag and you still spelled it wrong?” Randy sneers, and his friend Bob Sheldon looks over too, and starts to grin. Soda’s butterflies turn into rocks.

“I just wrote her name. Sherri.”

But his mouth does that thing again where the word doesn’t sound quite right coming out of his mouth as it did in his head and he can feel his cheeks heating up. That always happens. Bob and Randy and their friends always make fun of him for it, too. He tries to make out the letters he wrote on the paper.

He did write a y instead of an i. And his S is kinda weird-looking, too.

Oh. He didn’t mean to do that. His pencil must’ve moved on its own again like it always does when his brain gets jumbled.

“Cherry, you said Cherry! Her name is Sherri! An’ I think you wrote it too, but who knows, I can’t read that at all!” Bob jeers at him loudly, and the whole class is starting to look over. Chet Baker, the kid who mentioned Dallas earlier, is laughing too, and he whispers something into the ear of his partner. Soon everyone is staring at him, and Soda feels like sinking into the floor. Bob revels in the glory of it all.

“Leave it to dumb ol’ Sodapop to mess it all up!”

The classroom explodes into laughter, like that was the greatest insult of all time and not some lame comment from little kid.

“I like it, actually,” a voice says suddenly and Soda thinks for a second it’s an angel come down to earth. But it’s just Sherri, and she’s handing Soda a glue stick.

“Cherry. I love that. It’s going to be my new nickname.”

She elbows him gently and smiles at him. Her eyes are so green. Soda thinks green eyes are his favorite; Cherry has green eyes, and so do both of his brothers and his dad. That’s almost all of his favorite people on Earth, except for his mom. Her eyes are brown, like his own.

“I really like it, Soda.”

He really likes it too. Soda wishes he could’ve stayed in first grade forever, sometimes, because back then Cherry always stood up for him and now…

Now they’re sixteen and when he goes to hand Cherry her books, she seems to come back to reality. Her face contorts into something angry, or maybe more defensive, as she snaps, “I don’t need your help, grease. Helping me pick up my books like some wannabe-gentleman… don’t you have a girl, anyway?”

He does. Sandy’s somewhere one floor up in English right now reading some Shakespearean tragedy about star-crossed lovers, and he hasn’t told her he’s dropping out yet, either. He loves—really loves—three people left in the world, two of them are his brothers and one, he thinks, is Sandy, and they’re the only ones of the people he really cares about that he hasn’t told about his plan.

Now that his parents are dead, they’re the only people left he’s truly terrified of disappointing. They’re the only people he ever talk to about his problems.

The only people he felt he could ever ask for help. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t anymore.

So why does it bother him so much when he has to ask Cherry Valance to move her foot because she's standing on a paper that might honestly be his lifeline?

He points it out to her and she goes, “Oh,” and picks it up for him. Even brushes the dust off. Soda watches her eyes scan the top of the paper before his face turns even more red and he has to rip it from her hand.

“You didn’t see shit, soc,” he snaps, and maybe it’s mean and out of character for the ever-so-charming Sodapop Curtis that is known to walk these halls, but he’s embarrassed. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut at the face Cherry’s making and his stomach somehow hurts even more.

Not hurts. He’s got butterflies.

He’s in love with Sandy though, and she loves him back, and who gives a damn if he’s been practically ignoring Cherry for a decade now. Who gives a damn if she was the only person from the entire west side of Tulsa to show up at his parents’ funeral. She’s always gone to their church and it was right after the regular Sunday morning service and it doesn’t mean shit. Even if he didn’t have a box under his bed he’s been filling with cash for a ring to marry Sandy one day, Cherry wouldn’t matter, because she’s a soc and he’s a greaser and he might not be in even the average level English class like Sandy is, but Soda asked his mom about it once back when Darry was in sophomore year and was reading it and so he knows how Romeo & Juliet ends.

Soda’s in love with Sandy. She loves him back. He flips the collar of his flannel up because he’s a greaser and he’s gotta look tuff or tough or whatever and keeps walking.

“Sodapop!” Cherry calls, and he shouldn’t turn around but there’s classes going on right now and no one’s watching them.

“What?”

“I just—you aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else. You don’t have to do this.”

He stares at her. Maybe she is still kinda nice. But nice girls don’t date guys like Bob Sheldon who’ve picked on him for a decade now because sometimes he talks funny and because he can’t read or write or do anything like people his age are supposed to, on top of everything else that comes with being a greaser.

Guys like Bob Sheldon who do nothing but get drunk and beat on poor kids like Johnny Cade until they aren’t themselves anymore and never will be again.

“School just ain’t going to be the same without you brightening up everyone’s day, Soda,” Cherry calls after him, but he pushes through the door to the stairwell and pretends her words aren’t eating him alive.

“It just ain’t fair you never got any help!”

He wanted to be a teacher once. So did his mom, once upon a time, that meant college, and she had no money and had a baby at eighteen, so she never even had a shot of working in a daycare. And Soda’s dumb and nobody wants a dumb teacher, so he’s never going to be able to make a difference in the lives of kids like him.

Cherry’s right, he never got any help. That’s why he wanted to be the one to help the next generation. But it’s not going to happen.

She stood up for him once. She used to check his work for him before he handed it in. She would whisper-read when they were supposed to be reading silently so he’d understand the passage. They just can’t talk about it anymore because they grew up.

There aren’t many things he’ll miss about Will Rogers High School, but Cherry Valance is admittedly going to be one of them.

Another thing he won’t miss—the grouchy secretary he’s got to hand in the form to. When he gets to the office she gives him a nasty look that just screams get back to class, hood! or maybe something more along the lines of what’s this idiot doing here? He blow in on the way to stupid town?

…Maybe it’s an oh great, another greasy little troublemaker sent to the office.

Clearly that’s the right one, because the first thing she says is “What’d you do? I ain’t gotten a call up or nothin’.”

“I have this withdrawal form to hand in. I talked to our case worker with social services, she says she confirmed with you guys here that my dad’s signature should still be good enough even though he…?”

She swipes the form out of his hands and glances over it. “I’ll have the principal look at it. Get back to class.”

Soda turns, fully intent on finding his backpack and then walking out a side door somewhere instead, and he’s still going to—but just as he’s walking out someone calls his name. He looks back over his shoulder and the principal has stepped out of his office.

“Mr. Curtis, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and Soda nods, just hoping it’s not to do with that form.

He’s handed an envelope, but it’s not for him.

To the Parent/Guardian of Ponyboy Michael Curtis, it says on the front. Soda’s confused.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s an intake form for high school.”

“Pony’s in seventh grade. There’s a month left of school.”

“Yes, and his test scores are like nothing we’ve ever seen. He’s going to be coming here next year.”

“He’s in seventh grade. Sir, he never even hands in his homework on time! How’s he jumping ahead to ninth?”

“Mr. Curtis, please, just deliver that letter, would you? Saves me the trouble of having to mail it myself. Glory knows you of all people should understand not wanting to waste money on a stamp.”

The butterflies in Soda’s stomach from earlier turn to rocks and he feels like he’s being weighed down again. “I understand just fine, sir.”

He walks back to class, grabs his backpack and walks all the way home.

That night Darry talks about throwing a party for their little brother and Soda has to grin and bear it, because he’s honestly jealous as all hell. He’ll never admit it, though, because he’s as jealous as he is proud of Ponyboy.

But now he’s never going to be able to tell them he dropped out.

Not when Pony’s immediate reaction to the letter is “I get to go school with Soda next year?”

(He then adds, “and Johnny?” but Soda missed that part because he was too busy wallowing in his own guilt.)

Ponyboy’s going to hate this, he thinks the world and more of Soda and he’ll probably find a way to blame Darry for it. But it’s not Darry’s fault, it isn’t their parents’ fault or anybody’s except Soda’s brain for not working like it should. He thinks if his brothers fight tonight he’ll either lose it and kill them both or never stop crying, so he doesn’t tell them that night.

He doesn’t tell them for a month, not until it’s the last week of school and it’s pouring rain and Darry’s roofing job gets canceled for the day. He comes home early to find Soda sitting on the couch watching cartoons because it’s too early to head out to the DX. The clothes he left the house in that morning for school are drying on the radiator and Soda’s nose is red and Darry has to put the worry he’s going to get sick from walking home in the rain aside.

Ponyboy thinks Darry didn’t yell at Soda for dropping out. Well, he wasn’t home for the fallout.

For the “I know school is hard for you. If you really needed a day off, little buddy, you coulda told me instead of skipping. I’ll go call the school now and say you’re sick.”

And the “Sodapop Patrick, what the hell do they mean you ain’t been enrolled at Will Rogers for a month now?”

Or the horrible silence as Darry has to drive Soda to the DX for work in the pouring rain just so whatever cold he definitely caught that morning won’t get worse before it even starts.

No, Ponyboy won’t find out about any of it until he’s back to school shopping in August and jokingly asks Soda if he’s throwing in the towel this year because he’s not buying anything, and Soda casually tells him he’s not going back to school. That working full time at the DX over the summer wasn’t just a summer thing. It doesn’t go over well.

Darry carpools to work on the first day of Pony’s freshman year, because Soda practically begged him to let him have the truck to bring Pony to school alone that morning. Normally the kid would’ve walked, but Soda knows how big of a day this is, and their mom used to always make sure they didn’t have to walk on the first day, not even to the bus stop when they were in grammar school.

They pull up to the curb by the front doors and Soda can see Steve and Two-Bit and Johnny waiting for Ponyboy. He really appreciates Johnny for that. He never goes anywhere in the school that socs go unless there’s a teacher in the room, after he got jumped at the end of the last school year.

It figures he’d show up for Ponyboy, though. If Johnny isn’t with Dally—who’s not there because he got locked up after taking the blame for busting out a bunch of school windows last year even though Two-Bit did that—he’s with Ponyboy. They’re just close like that.

(Actually, Soda’s pretty sure Dally got himself arrested either because he’s simply self-destructive, or so he wouldn’t give himself a chance to kill anybody for what happened to Johnny, but that’s not really the point.)

Soda turns off the engine of the truck and turns to his brother.

“You ready?”

Ponyboy shrugs. He’s chewing on his thumbnail, a nervous habit the three brothers share. Soda gently pushes his arm down, getting Pony’s hand away from his mouth.

“You’re gonna do great, Pony. You might be young but you’re smarter than everybody in there. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

“You know Darry.”

“Darry’s Darry. He’s smart but he’s like—perfect, yknow? He don’t count. And he an’ I both reckon you’re smarter than he’ll ever be. You’re goin’ places, Pony. Really, truly going places. We both know it. You’re on your way up in the world, you’re gonna go so far.”

“People said that about Darry. Look at him now. He’s just a college dro—” Ponyboy cuts himself off and Soda knows why.

“Show ‘em what for, Pony,” he says. “Show ‘em what us Curtises are really made of, okay? Darry gave up his chance for us, but…if anybody’s gonna make it outta this place it’s gonna be you.”

Because Ponyboy was made great things, and Soda wasn’t, and he might still be jealous but his baby brother is going to kick ass in high school.

Soda hugs him and Pony gets out of the truck, and as he starts to walk away, Soda rolls the window down and he calls out:

“Hey, Pony, if you meet a girl named Cherry, tell her I said hi!”

Pony rolls his eyes and waves. Soda laughs to himself as he drives off.

Ponyboy Curtis, talking to a soc girl. Imagine that.

He’s too busy laughing at his own joke to notice Sandy on the sidewalk as he drives past, heading up the steps into the school practically hand-in-hand with a guy who isn’t him.

He does see a girl with auburn hair walking up to school, frowning, and Bob Sheldon’s got an arm around her.

“Great job, Soda! Mrs. Larkin, look how good Sodapop’s doing! He nearly finished the whole worksheet and didn’t give up once!”

“You aren’t stupid. You just learn different than everybody else.”

Soda turns the radio on. “All You Need Is Love” blasts through the speakers. The truck’s windows are down as he heads for the exit of the school’s parking lot.

One head turns.

But Sandy doesn’t like the Beatles.

#sodapop curtis #cherry valance #cherrycola #outsiders fanfic #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #bob sheldon #greasers #socs #sandy the outsiders #the outsiders #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders book #julie writes stuff #my post

65 notes · View notes

too-damn-good-for-growing-old · 4 months ago

Text

What if the crash that killed the Curtis parents went differently?

What if it happened two years before canon, and Pony volunteered to come along with his mom when she picked up both his dad and the frosting because he felt bad that he’d forgotten?

What if it wasn’t a train wreck, but an accident with another automobile?

And what if twelve-year-old Ponyboy was in the car?

And…what if I wrote this (I am writing it)

#somehow after literally a decade of being in this fandom I have never written fic for it #until now #it’s gonna be sad y’all #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders musical #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #the outsiders book #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders movie #the outsiders 1983 #outsiders fanfic #the curtis brothers

100 notes · View notes

kingofbrooklynn · 29 days ago

Text

A Curtis Christmas

Christmas was a day for rude awakenings by impatient children. These kids want their parents to wake up at dawn, so presents could be opened and the warm feeling of family could set in the living room.

Ponyboy Curtis was used to seeing this phenomenon in all types of media. He was the youngest in the family. When his parents were still around and he was much younger, he had fallen victim to being that exact cliché. His older brother, Sodapop, said that everyone should be woken up on Christmas for the real Christmas experience.

On Ponyboy’s 15th Christmas, he got to experience this rude awakening. At first, he assumed the one shaking him awake was Sodapop. They slept in the same room, and the older had done so before, so it was a reasonable inference. Then, he heard the deep and vulgar words coming out of the perpetrator’s mouth.

Ponyboy’s eyes refocused as his consciousness came back to him. Those rough and impatient hands belonged to Tim Shepard. It was slightly unnerving to see the infamous delinquent towering over him. Tim was large, with cruel eyes like an alley cat’s and a tuff scar along his dark skin.

“Were you in a coma or what, Curtis?” Tim growled. “Get the fuck up.”

Tim had become more and more common at the Curtis residence nowadays. No one else paid as much attention as Ponyboy, so they did not understand why he did so.

One day, however, Ponyboy figured out the truth. He had gotten home earlier than planned. When passing Darry’s room to get to his own, he heard a whispered voice that didn’t belong to his brother. Worried, he peeked over at the small crack between the door and the doorframe. In that miniature slit, he caught a glimpse of the Shepard boy in his older brother’s bed. He got a peek of Darry, as well, as they had little to no space between them.

Ponyboy wished he could erase that image from his memory. It was odd, as he thought he would catch Sodapop in that situation instead of Darry. He also thought it was a little odd for two boys to be doing that at first, but after a short amount of reflection, he concluded that he didn’t have a reason to care about that.

Ponyboy still hadn’t seen the good in Tim that Darry seemed to. He was very hesitant to blindly invite him into his already stressful life.

The fact Tim was here on Christmas frankly pissed him off. Especially the first one after their parents’ death. He scowled at Tim as he got up and was met with a mocking laugh as the other left the room.

Ponyboy really wanted to be excited for today and run into the living room because walking took too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It didn’t feel like Christmas. He didn’t wake up to Sodapop drinking hot chocolate in bed. He slept in. He knew he wouldn’t see his father’s bright smile when going into the kitchen. He wouldn’t see his mother beside him, making her famous Christmas cookies. Ponyboy could almost smell the treats, but he told himself he was imagining it.

He looked over at the picture on his dresser. It was of his parents. They were much younger in the picture, even though they also passed very young. A long scarf was around the two of them and they were huddling for warmth. Around them, cold snow fell. It must’ve been hell, but they seemed so happy to just have each other.

The picture used to be in their parents’ bedroom, which is now Darry’s. Ponyboy and Sodapop got to search around to look for stuff they might want in the room before Darry took all of it for himself. Ponyboy chose that picture.

He hoped it would make himself feel better, but it only reminded him that the anniversary of their death was coming up. January 5th. A whole year since the accident. To the Curtis boys, it felt like decades.

Ponyboy quickly grabbed his blanket from his bed. He took it everywhere he could, without even thinking about it nowadays. It was a gift last year for Christmas from his parents. It gave him comfort.

The first thing he saw when he finally stepped into the living room was the lit Christmas tree. It was a fake one, so the Curtises could reuse it every year. What was new, however, was the amount of presents under the tree. Ponyboy had overheard Darry say money was tight, so he didn’t particularly expect as many presents this year. Clearly, he was wrong.

He looked to his left and took note of who he saw. Sodapop was the first one he noticed, drinking some hot chocolate and talking to Steve. Ponyboy wasn’t particularly stoked that Steve was there, but he supposed he could deal with it. Steve was basically family, after all. Two-bit was there, too, drinking what appeared to be eggnog.

What stuck out to Ponyboy the most, however, was the absence of Darry and Tim. He hoped Tim wasn’t even here and that he was just a sleepy hallucination, but Darry’s absence worried him. Ponyboy frowned when he came to the most reasonable conclusion in his mind. Darry was working on Christmas.

It wasn’t unreasonable to think so. Not in the slightest. Darry had been working more recently, taking even later shifts than usual. It has gotten so bad that Ponyboy doesn’t even see him unless he stays up pretty late. He doesn’t want to see him come home sometimes. He just sees Darry drag himself across the room to go to his room to sleep. Sometimes Tim helps him, but it’s torture.

His nervous thoughts were broken when Sodapop called, “Pony’s alive!”

Ponyboy didn’t think he slept in for that long. He walked over and sat down next to his brother with a hollow chuckle. That faint scent of his late mother’s signature Christmas cookies grew more potent. It relaxed Ponyboy a bit, even if he knew he was just imagining it. He laid his head on Sodapop’s shoulder.

“Y’know, Ponyboy, Santa came for us.” Sodapop revealed, taking another sip of his hot chocolate.

“Santa?” Ponyboy was so baffled he laughed. “We’re not 6 years old.”

“Oh shut up, Scrooge. Santa thought it would make today more… uhh… Christmasy.” Sodapop explained.

Ponyboy’s brows furrowed. Why would Darry bring back Santa Claus? To make up for his absence due to work? It probably wouldn’t work. Still, he reached over to grab a present from Santa, but Sodapop stopped him. “Wait until Darry’s done with the cookies so he can see you open ‘em.”

When Darry was done with the cookies? Ponyboy realized he had never really checked the kitchen. Plus, that warm smell of cookies was far too strong and familiar to be imaginary. The youngest boy got up and walked to the kitchen wordlessly, much to the others’ confusion.

The strength of the smell hit him in the face like a truck when he finally got to the kitchen. Then, he heard it.

A loud belly laugh met Ponyboy’s ears like a warm hug. It was like he had heard his favorite childhood song for the first time in years, falling in love with it all over again. He barely recognized the sound at first, but he looked over and realized it. It was Darry’s laugh.

Darry was laughing. He had this warm smile on his face that Ponyboy hadn’t seen in the almost full year Darry had been 20. Tim was holding him, a smile on his face, too. He didn’t even seem surprised to hear Darry laugh. Did he laugh often in front of Tim? Was he that in love with Tim Shepard that Darrel Curtis laughed?

He could feel the warmth of the hold. The way Tim’s large arms wrapped around Darry’s waist like it was keeping him alive. The way Darry seemed as if he didn’t mind it, as if he was exactly where he belonged. The way Tim didn’t let him go, even as Darry laughed. Was he that in love?

Darry looked an awful lot like dad.

“Merry Christmas,” Darry greeted Ponyboy. He didn’t hide his smile or his love for Tim. His eyes sparkled like ice in the sun. The sides of his mouth looked more like dimples instead of wrinkles.

“Merry Christmas,” Ponyboy replied, Darry’s smile contagious. This was going to be a good Christmas.

#darrel curtis #the outsiders musical #tim x darry #darry curtis #tarry #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #tim shepard #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #outsiders fanfic #darry x tim #tim shepard x darry curtis #darry curtis x tim shepard #i wrote this in a few hours #hope you enjoy…

32 notes · View notes

anifever · 3 months ago

Text

Cherry Valance Dating HC’s ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sherri “Cherry” Valance x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : Lil’ blurbs/hc’s about dating the prettiest girl in Tulsa

A/N : 1. This has been in the drafts for months 2. This is probably OOC but I love her. I don’t think this is a tw but the relationship is hidden due to homophobia blah blah

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🍒 ˚₊‧⁺˖

୨ Constantly going shopping together

୨ Would be EXTREMELY nervous meeting your family even if she’s just introducing herself as a ‘close friend’

୨ Does not hesitate to tell ppl off if they’re picking on you

୨ Buying and wearing matching jewelry

୨ Trying to hold back laughs when guys hit on either of you in front of each other

୨ Countless subtle looks

୨ You probably have a secret code to say “I love you,” a hand motion or phrase

୨ I feel like she’d love doing/playing with your hair, vice versa

୨ Like she’d always be trying to do the same curls and style she does on herself if you have the same hair texture

୨ Going along with what I said about matching jewelry, also matching outfits; color coordinated or something

୨ Wearing a light pink pink cardigan with a pale yellow skirt then her doing the opposite omg I’m gnawing on the bars of my enclosure

୨ Surprisingly getting into really weird conversation topics

୨ On the phone until 3 in the morning talking about “what would you do if you woke up in the middle of a corn field”

୨ Giggling and kicking your feet while watching her handle/take care of kids

୨ Baby fever goes through the roof

୨ A bunch of movie dates which probably include some Dallas jumpscares

୨ You always watch her at cheer practice, but if you’re also a cheerleader, even better

୨ Related- you fawn over her in the uniform.

୨ Also somewhat related, before you started dating she definitely had a ‘but I’m a cheerleader!’ moment

୨ You guys probably win the “best best friends category” in the yearbook… yeah…

୨ Yes, she can stand up for herself, but she’s also a sweetheart and pretty sensitive

୨ Compliment her 💔 please 💔

୨ She’d get so red and start smiling like crazy

୨ She’s always randomly buying you stuff; earrings, hair clips, vinyls, underwear sets, etc get plopped into your lap out of nowhere

୨ Overall, she’s SO caring and I can’t stress this enough

୨ She just is in general but it’d be so intensified with you

#cherry valance #cherry valance x reader #sherri valance #sherri valance x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders fanfiction #outsiders #outsiders fanfic #the outsiders fanfic #cherry valance imagine #sherri valance imagine #wlw #the outsiders imagine

80 notes · View notes

thewulf · 7 months ago

Text

Igniting Affection || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - could you please do a dallas winston x curtis!sister where she's soda's twin. one night (at like 11pm) after a fight with darry, she sneaks out. while walking on the streets, she gets followed and harassed by a group of guys when dally finds her and saves her. they confess their feelings for each other, and then he takes her home. darry is up stressed about her and when he sees her come in with dal of all people, he loses it (gives him a black eye lol). they end up convincing darry that they truly care for each other and dally promises not to hurt her. thank you so so much!!!

A/N: Soft Dallas is my FAVORITE.

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

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Punching, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings

In the bustling Curtis household, you've always found a sense of both chaos and completeness. As Soda's twin you share more than just a birthday; his infectious laugh and easy charm are mirrored in you albeit with your own fiery independence. The pair of you are a fixture in the gang, equally loved and protected by your brothers and friends.

Lately though the dynamics at home have subtly shifted, especially your interactions with Dallas Winston. Dalla was always known for his tough exterior and rebellious nature and had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. He was always there, in the background, his sharp eyes often finding yours across the room. Initially Dallas's attention was just another constant in your life, like the rumbling of motorcycles or the distant sound of rock and roll drifting through the neighborhood. But as you grew older so did the nature of his attention. It transformed, deepened. His glances lingered longer. His usual smirks were replaced with genuine smiles when you entered the room.

Darry and Soda started to notice the subtle changes too. In how Dallas stood a little closer to you than necessary, how he lingered at the Curtis house even after everyone else had left. His demeanor softened when you spoke. A stark contrast to the tough persona he presented to the rest of the world.

The gang teased him when you weren't around. Not cruelly but enough to make any other guy back off. But Dallas didn't care. He shrugged off their comments with a smirk, his usual defiance shining through. It seemed Dallas Winston, who never let anything affect him, was sweet on you and it was becoming more apparent by the day. He always liked you but as you were getting older his feelings seemed to shift from a protective friendship to something far deeper, much more tender. He'd grown to adore you and it showed not just in the way he watched you but in the small acts of kindness that he tried to hide—an extra soda by your side at the diner, his jacket over your shoulders on chilly nights.

The changes were subtle but significant. It set the stage for new tensions and old fears to collide especially with Darry's watchful eyes missing nothing.

Darry's reaction to Dallas's growing fondness for you was as expected—protective, skeptical, and a bit wary. As the eldest Curtis sibling Darry had always taken his responsibilities seriously, perhaps too seriously at times. He saw Dallas's tough reputation and the hard edges of his life, and it worried him. He wasn't blind to the subtle shift in Dallas's behavior around you or his lingering presence in your home. His disapproval was palpable. A silent tension that hung in the air whenever Dallas was around.

However, Soda, ever the peacemaker and your fiercest supporter saw things a bit differently. He noticed how Dallas’s eyes softened when he looked at you. How he always made sure you were laughing in a group. Soda pushed for Darry to give Dallas a chance, arguing that underneath the rough exterior, Dallas cared deeply. And not just about you but about all the people he considered his family. Soda’s arguments were lighthearted but persistent often accompanied by a slap on Darry's back and a grin trying to ease his brother into acceptance.

On a bustling weekday the DX station was a hub of activity. Cars lined up for gas, the air filled with the scent of oil and the sound of chatter. You usually manned the front desk with Sandy, handling the cash register and charming the customers with easy smiles and quick service. It was a routine that brought a sense of normalcy to the otherwise chaotic life of being a Curtis and a part of the gang.

Dallas knew your schedule by heart. A fact that he kept to himself but was evident in the timing of his visits. Today he strode into the DX expecting to find you behind the counter sharing a laugh with Sandy or flipping through a magazine during a rare quiet moment. Instead, he was met with the sight of just Sandy who was busily stacking receipts.

He walked up to her trying to mask his disappointment with a gruff nod. “Y/N’s not here?”

Sandy easily recognized the thinly veiled concern in his voice and shook her head with a smirk. “Nope she took off for a bit. Something about an errand or other.”

Dallas's frown deepened and without another word he turned on his heel and made his way to the garage where Soda and Steve worked with the occasional appearance from Two-Bit. Pushing open the door he found them buried under the hood of a Chevy, tools in hand.

“Where’s Y/N?” Dallas’s voice carried a touch of irritation. His usual cool demeanor slipping slightly.

Soda popped his head out, wiping sweat from his brow. “Hey, Dal. She had to run some errands. Didn’t say much. Why, missing her already?”

Steve didn’t miss a beat, adding with a chuckle, “Yeah, Dallas, you look lost without her. Should we put up missing posters?”

Dallas scowled before crossing his arms as he leaned against a workbench. “Very funny both of you. Just wondering is all.”

Two-Bit who had just walked in with a box of spare parts joined in the fun. “Wondering or pining? There’s a fine line and I think our boy Dallas is dancing right on it!”

The group erupted in laughter, even Dallas couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head at his friends’ relentless teasing. Despite his tough exterior it was clear to everyone there that his visits were less about the cars and more about the chance to see you. As the laughter died down Soda clapped Dallas on the shoulder, his voice sincere, “Don’t worry Dal, she’ll be back soon. And hey, maybe you should just tell her, huh? Clear the air.”

Dallas shrugged with the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Maybe,” he muttered. His mind already planning his next visit, hoping it would coincide with yours.

Steve and Two-Bit exchanged a look. Their teasing smiles softening into something more akin to understanding. They knew where Dallas’s heart was and despite their jokes they were rooting for him—maybe even enough to pull Darry around eventually.

The evening had started off like any other in the Curtis household—dinner was a raucous affair with laughter and the clattering of dishes. But the atmosphere shifted palpably when Darry brought up your recent behavior. It was rare for you and Darry to clash. He was usually the understanding brother, the steady hand. But tonight, his patience seemed worn thin as you were late to dinner for the third time that week.

“Y/N, we need to talk about these late nights,” Darry began. His tone more of concern than anger. His eyes that usually warm held a hint of frustration.

You tensed feeling suddenly on edge. “What about them Dar?” Your voice was calm but underneath you felt a storm brewing.

“It’s not just the late nights. It’s everything. You’re out more, and when you’re home, you seem... distant.” Darry’s words were careful but to you they felt accusatory.

Soda, sensing the tension, tried to smooth things over. “Come on, Darry, Y/N’s just working extra shifts at the DX with Sandy or hanging out with her friends. It’s nothing serious.”

Darry shot Soda a look that silenced him. “It’s different, Soda. And you know it.”

You couldn’t help but feel cornered. “So, it’s okay for Soda to go off and do god knows what but I have to be kept under wraps? Tighter than Ponyboy, even?” The comparison came out harsher than you intended. You saw Ponyboy’s wince from the corner of your eye.

Pony hated this kind of confrontation and stepped forward. “Y/N, Darry’s just worried, you know? We all are. That’s all.”

“But why? Because I’m not just sitting around waiting for things to happen to me? Because I want something more than just this?” Your voice rose as you slapped the dining table with a mix of frustration and desperation. You were seeking an understanding where there seemed to be none.

Darry stood up, his stature imposing. “It’s not about holding you back. It’s about making sure you’re safe, that you’re not heading down a path that—”

You stood up to meet his eye, “A path that what, Darry? That you wouldn’t choose?” You interrupted. Your patience snapping. The room went silent with the weight of your words hanging heavily.

Soda tried again. His voice softer. “Y/N, just talk to us, okay? We’re all on the same team here.”

But the damage was done. You felt smothered, misunderstood, and the need for air, for space, overwhelmed you. “I need to get out of here,” you muttered before heading towards the door.

“Y/N, wait—” Darry’s call was too late. The front door slammed behind you leaving a stunned silence in your wake.

As you walked down the quiet, dark streets your heart pounded with a mix of anger and relief. The cool night air was a calm to your heated emotions. You knew you shouldn’t have left like that, but the walls of the house felt like they were closing in on you. You needed to think, to breathe.

Under the dim streetlights your footsteps echoed on the pavement. The familiar streets offering little comfort tonight. You just needed a moment alone to figure out how to bridge the gap growing between you and Darry. How to make him see you as you were not as he feared you might become.

The night air brushed against your cheeks as you hurried along the dimly lit streets of your neighborhood. The usual buzz of the city felt muted instead replaced by an eerie quiet that made every footstep echo with unusual clarity. Despite the tension at home there was a fleeting sense of freedom in being out here alone, walking where and when you chose. However, this freedom was tinged with apprehension. The shadows around each corner seeming to stretch a little longer in the moonlight.

As you continued to walk you noticed a group of figures leaning against the wall of the local convenience store. They weren’t the usual Socs you had to watch out for; these were greasers, some you recognized from around but never really interacted with. They were the kind who respected your brothers too much to ever say much to you, treating you as something akin to a community sister—off-limits and under the invisible protection of the Curtis household.

Tonight, however, with your brothers not around their demeanor shifted. As you passed by, their casual lounging straightened into something more attentive. "Hey, Y/N, out for a midnight stroll?" one of them called out. His tone teasing but carrying an edge you didn’t trust.

You offered a tight smile trying to get them to leave you the hell alone. You quickened your pace hoping to put distance between yourself and the group, but their laughter and footsteps seemed to echo menacingly in the quiet night. They flanked you loosely. Careful not to touch but making sure you felt their presence close and threatening.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be so uptight," one of them sneered. His voice a blend of mockery and veiled threat. "We're just curious why the cute little Curtis girl is all by herself tonight. No big brothers to call?"

Their words were meant to intimidate. They reminded you of the precariousness of your situation. The unspoken rule among the greasers—that you were off-limits because of your brothers' reputation—seemed thinner now. The line between respect and risk blurred by the night and their growing boldness.

Another from the group, a lanky figure with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes, leaned a little too close. "Yeah, where's Dallas tonight sweetheart? Too busy to keep an eye on his favorite girl?" He snickered as you tried walking faster. Their insinuations were clear. They wouldn't dare cross a line that could lead to a direct confrontation with the Curtis brothers or Dallas, but they found amusement in pushing you to the edge of your tolerance. You were an easy target without the usual protection of your family's presence, and they exploited that isolation.

You tried to keep your voice steady. Your fear masked under a veneer of confidence. "Look, I don't want trouble. Just leave me alone."

But their amusement only grew with your discomfort. "Aw, she wants to be left alone," mocked another. His tone dripping with false pity. "What do you say, guys? Should we give the princess her space?" Their laughter filled the air. It was a harsh contrast to the otherwise silent night. You realized then that your attempts at diplomacy were futile. Their respect for your family held them back only so much and without a tangible deterrent they felt free to torment you.

The vulnerability of your situation crystallized in your mind. You were truly alone and the protective bubble that had always surrounded you provided by your brothers and their fearsome reputations had momentarily burst. The reality of the streets, harsh and unforgiving, pressed in on you. The idea of finding a way out of this tightening circle became a desperate need.

As the tension around you escalated the distant rumble of a motorcycle engine suddenly cut through the night. The sound grew louder, more distinct, until it was clear that it was Dallas’s bike. A familiar, comforting noise in the otherwise threatening situation. The group surrounding you turned toward the sound with uncertainty flickering across their faces.

Dallas wasn’t merely out for a ride. He was on a mission. After the heated argument at home and your abrupt departure, Soda had grown increasingly worried. He knew how headstrong you could be and despite his own urge to go after you he recognized that you might not take well to him or Darry showing up. Instead, he’d grabbed the phone and called Dallas before explaining the situation and his concern. “She might listen to you, man. She’s really upset, and who knows what could happen out there tonight,” Soda had said with his voice tense.

Acknowledging the urgency, Dallas had immediately revved up his bike and headed towards your usual haunts. His instincts telling him where you might be. As he spotted the group around you his worry turned into protective fury. He pulled up sharply, the bike’s engine cutting off as he dismounted swiftly. His presence commanding and his expression thunderous.

“What’s going on here?” Dallas demanded. His voice a cold, hard slash through the tension. The greasers hesitated as they were caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the unmistakable threat in his posture.

One of them tried to play it cool, “Just chatting, Dal. No harm meant.” But the nervous glance he shot his friends told a different story.

Dallas stepped closer, his eyes not leaving yours, ensuring you were unharmed. “Doesn’t look like she’s enjoying the chat. I think it’s time you guys find somewhere else to be,” he said. His tone leaving no room for arguments.

As the group dispersed, mumbling, and avoiding his gaze, Dallas’s stern expression softened when he turned back to you. “Soda called me. He said you took off after the fight. He was worried… and honestly, so was I,” he confessed, his concern palpable.

Relief washed over you mingled with a touch of embarrassment. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you murmured while feeling the weight of the night’s events start to settle on your shoulders.

Dallas shook his head slightly. A ghost of a smile appearing. “No one’s blaming you.”

After ensuring the group had actually left and you were safely away from any immediate danger, Dallas didn't immediately urge you onto the bike. Instead, he leaned against it. His expression contemplative as he watched the night settle back into its usual quiet. The tension that had wired every line of his body seemed to relax slightly as he turned to look at you standing there in the dim streetlight.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice softer this time, filled with genuine concern. The protective anger had faded leaving room for something more tender.

You nodded while trying to muster a convincing smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was nothing,” you said, attempting to downplay the incident.

Dallas just shook his head. His gaze intense and knowing. “Don’t say it was nothing. I saw your face, the way they were around you. It’s not nothing,” he insisted, his voice firm, indicating that he saw through your façade. Your eyes even in the dim light told him the true story of your fear.

You sighed. The fight draining out of you. It was useless to pretend with Dallas. He always seemed to know how you really felt. “Alright, maybe it shook me up more than I want to admit,” you conceded with your voice softening.

Dallas's expression softened too. His concern replaced with a tender vulnerability. "I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you," he confessed, his voice low. "Seeing those guys crowd you like that... it made my blood boil."

He continued now with his words tumbling out in a restless stream. "You know, it's just... when I think about you out here, all alone, it drives me crazy. Not just tonight, but always, whenever you're out late or when you're working those long shifts at the DX. I'm always wondering if you're safe or if someone's giving you a hard time."

He paused. His brow furrowed as he tried to organize his thoughts. "And it's like, I know we've both been dancing around this… whatever this is between us. Because, what if it gets weird, right? What if it changes everything and then things with the gang get all... I don't know, messed up because of us?"

His hand gestures grew more animated as he struggled to articulate his feelings. His usual cool demeanor unraveling a bit. "And I keep thinking, maybe I should say something, maybe I shouldn’t... It’s just, you mean a lot to me, more than you should, more than I let on."

As Dallas rambled on, his expression earnest and tinged with anxiety, your initial shock at his sudden outpouring began to melt away into something softer, warmer. With each word, each fumbled attempt to express his fears and feelings, your smile grew. The tension that had wrapped around you both that was fueled by the night's earlier events and the years of unspoken emotions started to unravel.

He looked almost comical. A stark contrast to his usual stoic self, as he struggled to piece together the right words. His hands gesturing wildly before he finally paused and admitted, "Dammit, I'm messing this up." Then, with a deep breath, he laid everything out: "Look, what I’m trying to say is—I like you. A lot. More than a friend. More than just someone I hang around with. I like you a lot Y/N."

Watching the transformation in his face from frustration to bare, honest declaration, your heart swelled. When he finally admitted his feelings so directly your smile blossomed brilliantly. The warmth in your chest sparking into joyous flames.

Without a moment's hesitation you closed the small distance between you, flinging your arms around his neck. "I like you too, idiot!" you exclaimed with laughter bubbling up through the words. Your voice was light, teasing, filled with relief and affection. The moment felt like a release. As if all the pent-up emotions had finally been given permission to breathe.

As you stood wrapped in Dallas's arms, the world seemed to fade into a backdrop for this singular moment between you two. The night air, the distant sounds of the city, all fell away, leaving only the sound of your joined laughter and the warmth of his embrace.

With a tender motion that felt both daring and inevitable Dallas leaned in closer. His eyes searched yours for just a moment, asking for permission, and finding no hesitation, he kissed you. The kiss was intimate. A slow melding of lips that spoke of suppressed longing and newfound freedom to express everything that had been held back for so long.

As he pulled back a mischievous smirk played across his lips. "Did you just call me an idiot?" he teased his voice low and playful.

The absurdity and sweetness of the moment overwhelmed you and laughter spilled from you in a joyful cascade. "Maybe I did," you admitted with a grin. Your happiness bubbling over. "But you kind of deserved it, don't you think?"

Dallas's smirk broadened into a full smile, rare and striking on his usually reserved face. "Yeah, maybe I did," he agreed. His voice warm with affection and amusement.

Standing there with Dallas under the streetlight with his arms still around you, the night took on a different hue. What had started as an angry escape from home had transformed into a pivotal chapter in your story. One filled with unexpected confessions and the thrill of mutual feelings finally acknowledged. The laughter between you two echoed softly in the quiet street. A sound of lightness and promise as you both reveled in how wonderfully the night was turning out.

With a last chuckle shared between the two of you Dallas's expression shifted back to one of concern. The protective streak that had driven him to you tonight reasserting itself. "We gotta get you home," he said with a slight frown creasing his brow as he considered the potential fallout of the evening. "You probably gave Darry a heart attack, running out like that."

He then took a helmet from the back of the bike and carefully placed it on your head, his fingers deftly securing the straps to ensure it was snug. “Gotta keep you safe,” he murmured, almost to himself. With a gentle but firm hand he helped you onto the bike. His protective nature in full display.

Once you were settled he climbed on in front of you. “Hold on tighter,” he instructed with a note of concern in his voice. He had always been reluctant to have you on the bike thinking you were too precious to be exposed to the risks. An ironic sentiment considering the circumstances.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding on tighter as he had asked. The security of his presence enveloped you. The bike roared to life beneath you and as you sped away the cool night air whipped around you carrying away the remnants of fear. Riding with Dallas you felt a profound sense of safety. A stark contrast to the vulnerability of just moments before.

As you and Dallas pulled up to the Curtis house with the engine's rumble cutting through the quiet of the late night, you could already see Darry pacing on the porch. His silhouette tense against the dimly lit doorway. The moment you stepped off the bike the worry and anger in Darry's eyes were palpable. Seeing you arrive not alone but with Dallas at the helm visibly escalated his anxiety to fury.

"Dallas?!" Darry's voice boomed across the yard. His tone thick with disbelief and rising anger. "Of all people, you had to show up with him?"

As Darry's anger surged forward Dallas's response was remarkably restrained. Despite his usual readiness to fight back or stand his ground, tonight was different. He understood the weight of the moment and the emotions driving Darry's actions. As Darry advanced, Dallas's stance was defensive but not aggressive. He raised his hands, palms outward, in a clear gesture of peace.

"Darry, listen—" Dallas started, his voice calm but firm, attempting to de-escalate the tension. He didn't want to fight, especially not tonight, not over this. And certainly not with you watching, worried and tense.

But Darry was blinded by worry and anger. He wasn't ready to listen. His fist swung out, more a reaction to the overwhelming stress of the night than a genuine intention to harm. Dallas didn't dodge. He took the hit. The impact of the punch landing solidly, the pain sharp but expected. Dallas's head snapped to the side, the force leaving a darkening mark that would soon swell into a black eye.

Even as he reeled from the blow, Dallas's focus remained on trying to settle the situation without further violence. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Darry," he said while steadying himself. His voice still level. "I just wanted to make sure she was safe." As tensions flared between Darry and Dallas you were quick to intervene with your voice rising in the cool night air, laced with shock and frustration. Seeing Dallas willingly take the hit and not fighting back against Darry's sudden burst of anger, ignited your own protective instincts.

"Darry, stop! What are you doing?!" you exclaimed while rushing forward to place yourself between them, your hands pushing against Darry's chest as you faced him squarely. The sight of Dallas, holding his face, clearly in pain yet standing down fueled your words with an urgency and a sharpness.

"He was just trying to help! He didn’t come here to fight," you continued. Your voice breaking slightly under the strain of emotion. "He protected me tonight when I needed it. How can you just hit him like that?"

Your words, impassioned and direct, seemed to pierce through the haze of Darry's anger, reaching him in a way that visibly shook his resolve. He glanced from your upset face to Dallas's subdued expression. The reality of his actions settling in heavily. The tension in his shoulders eased as he took a step back. His fists unclenching as he took in the full scene—his sister defending the very person he had instinctively seen as a threat.

The situation gradually deescalated with your firm intervention reminding everyone involved of the deeper bonds and mutual concern that held your group together. Darry's posture softened, his expression morphing into one of regret and concern. Not just for you but for the unnecessary harm he had caused Dallas. "I... I'm sorry," Darry finally muttered. His voice low, directed at both you and Dallas. "I wasn't thinking straight. I shouldn't have hit you."

This conciliatory moment that was sparked by your emotional plea helped to bridge the gap of misunderstanding and tension, allowing for a more open and honest discussion about the night's events and the feelings involved. It was a raw but necessary confrontation that ultimately strengthened the understanding and trust within your family.

As Soda emerged onto the scene he quickly assessed the tension, noting the standoff and Dallas holding his eye. The atmosphere was charged but already cooling as you stood firmly between Dallas and Darry bridging the gap with your determined presence.

Seeing that the initial fury had subsided, and words were taking the place of fists, Soda's intervention was gentle but firm. "Alright, what’s going on here?" he asked. His tone carrying enough authority to ensure no further escalations.

Darry, still caught in the mix of anger and regret, glanced at Soda, then back at you and Dallas. The anger in his eyes had dimmed instead replaced by a recognition of his overreaction. "I... I overreacted," Darry admitted. His voice low and carrying the weight of his apology. "Sorry, Dallas."

Dallas, still nursing his eye but visibly calmer, gave a slight nod in acknowledgment, accepting the apology without further conflict. His gaze met yours briefly. A silent thank you for your defense and understanding. Soda's eyes moved between the three of you, his expression easing into relief as he realized the worst was over. "Let’s just take a minute here," he suggested, his voice light but carrying an underlying seriousness. "No more surprises tonight, okay?"

His casual demeanor helped to dissipate the remaining tension serving as a reminder that despite the upheaval the bonds within your group remained strong. With a brief clasp on Darry's shoulder, Soda signaled that it was time to move past the conflict.

“Let's head inside. We all need to cool off,” Soda finally said, indicating the porch as a way to leave the incident behind physically and metaphorically. This simple suggestion helped to restore a sense of normalcy, guiding everyone back into the safety and familiarity of the house.

As the tension dissipated and everyone moved inside you led Dallas to the couch. Your focus on his well-being showing clearly through your gentle care. You fetched some ice, wrapping it in a towel, and carefully applied it to his swollen eye. Dallas, tough as always, tried not to wince but the grateful look he shot you didn't go unnoticed.

Soda leaned against the doorframe, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Looks like Dally's finally found someone who can knock him off his feet," he quipped. His tone light but his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as you focused on adjusting the ice pack. "Shut up, Soda," you muttered. Unable to suppress a smile. Your blush deepened, giving away more than you intended.

From across the room Darry observed the scene, his expression shifting from concern to curiosity as he noted the interaction. Finally, he cleared his throat, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "So, what's going on with you two?" he asked. His voice direct but not unkind.

You paused, meeting Dallas’s eyes for a brief moment before responding. "I like him. He likes me. We're going to see where it goes," you stated simply, honesty in your tone. Soda's reaction was immediate and enthusiastic. He punched the air lightly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Dallas who was caught a bit off guard by the straightforward declaration and Soda’s exuberance, chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had turned out. Then, turning towards Darry, who still seemed to be weighing his feelings about the situation, Dallas spoke earnestly.

"Look, Darry, I know I’m not the kind of guy you pictured for her. But I promise you this, no one's gonna look after her better than me," Dallas said. His voice carrying a sincerity that filled the room. "She means more to me than just... well, anything."

Darry looked at Dallas, then at you, and then back at Dallas again searching for any hint of insincerity. Finding none and moved by Dallas's words, he finally nodded, a reluctant smile breaking through his initial reservations. "Alright," he conceded, "just... make sure you keep that promise."

The room relaxed into a quiet, comfortable silence, filled with new understandings and quiet acknowledgments of the shifts in your relationships. As you continued to hold the ice to Dallas's eye, a soft smile played on your lips, both of you sharing a moment of quiet connection grateful for the night's unexpected revelations and the paths they were paving forward.

In the weeks that followed your night of revelations life settled into a new rhythm with Dallas at your side. The change was subtle but profound, marked not by grand gestures but by quiet moments that spoke volumes about the depth of your connection. Whether hanging out at the Curtis house or spending time together at the DX, you and Dallas found your stride, intertwining your daily lives with ease. The gang's initial teasing faded into a background hum instead replaced by an unspoken acceptance as they witnessed the genuine care between you two.

One evening as you both sat on the hood of his car, parked at a lookout point overlooking the town, Dallas broke the comfortable silence. "I never planned on any of this," he said. His tone reflective. "But now, I can’t imagine it any other way."

You smiled as your hand found his in the dim light. "Life’s funny like that," you replied. "The best things happen when you least expect them."

Dallas gave a half-smile while squeezing your hand gently. "Yeah, they do," he agreed. He looked out at the view, the lights of the town twinkling below, a mirror to the stars above. "With you, it’s different. It’s better. And I want to keep it that way."

"Then we will," you said simply. The promise hanging in the air, easy and assured.

As you both sat there with the night deepening around you, the challenges of the past seemed like distant echoes. The road ahead wasn't clear and life with the gang was never without its ups and downs, but together, you felt ready for whatever might come. In the quiet solidarity of the moment, you knew that as long as you both held on to this shared sense of understanding and respect. You could face the future with confidence.

With the stars overhead as witnesses and the gentle night breeze as your accompaniment the simple yet profound realization that you were exactly where you needed to be cemented itself in your heart.

(Taglist Sign Up): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kenn-spencerswifey @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @dnfhascorruptedme

184 notes · View notes

only-lonely-star · 18 days ago

Note

Curtis sister sneaking out to see a guy at a party and being caught by dally!

Snuck Around and Found Out

Warnings: (For some reason I decided to make them curse a ‘lot’. 😭) Partying, mentions of drinking, sneaking out.

Summary: Fuck around and find out LMFAO

Author’s Note: I spent my winter break trying to better myself. I spent little amount of it on my phone (hence why I was so inactive). I have one more semester left y’all, pray for me 🙏🏼🙏🏼. It’s been a hot minute, but I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season!! Thank you for your request, I hope you all enjoy this one!! 🫶🏼

Word Count: 1.8k.

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Perfect. Layering a leather jacket over your rather risqué outfit was the finishing touch needed for the night. You were going for a rather bold look, one to impress tonight’s company which awaited you on the west side of town. It wasn’t often you attended house parties, let alone with the richer folk who could afford them. Sneaking out wasn’t too difficult - as long as you didn’t stumble out of the window or cause an uproar, you’d be just fine.

Turning off the lamp on your bedside table was a must, your brothers had been fooled into believing you had laid down hours ago. They would freak if they knew your plans of making your great escape. The glass window creaked as it was maneuvered overhead, creating a wide enough gap for your body to fit through. Thank goodness you could only afford to live in a one-story house…

The soles of your shoes hit the dampened ground floor, a few leaves crackling under your weight. You heaved the thick glass back down, leaving a small crack for an easy entry when the party was over. A smile of victory tugged at the corners of your lips.

_________________________________________________

Soc territory. There was nothing quite like it, the clean sidewalks, silent ambiance, the beautifully decorated yards… it was heaven on earth - you were sure of it. This specific house was much closer to the city. Word had gotten around about the buzzing party being hosted tonight. Missing out on this wasn’t an option.

Your pace quickened as you strutted your way up the driveway. It was a long, grey-stoned path that was surrounded by grass so precisely cut it looked fake. The front door was wide open. Chatter and faint music were audible even at a faraway distance. Sauntering towards the foyer, you took a moment to gawk at a house so luxurious. The air was filled with soft giggles and shuffling of feet. Most were on the hunt for a date, and some were already getting it down a dim hallway, secluded from the rest of the party. There was a surprisingly good mix between socs and greasers, although you were familiar with most since this was a well-discussed event at school.

And there he was, your date. He stood off by the spiral staircase and leaned coolly against the wooden railing. His tall, broad-shouldered, yet relaxed figure was unmistakable. It was a relief knowing he’d kept to himself this entire time, not daring to interact with other girls while waiting for you to arrive. You walked towards him confidently, a pep in your step. The boy grinned cunningly as he locked eyes with you. “Thought you bailed on me for a minute, I been here ten minutes already,” he spoke lowly, extending an arm for a hug.

You graciously accepted, letting your body collide with his for a brief moment. “Sorry, I was tryin’ to keep quiet when I left. But man, have you seen this place?”

He could hardly focus much on your words, he was fixated on your lips. The way they moved delicately, the shiny glow of them, the tinted color that complimented your eyes so perfectly. To say he was infatuated with you was an understatement. “Mhmph, an’ you look incredible. I like your… your little outfit,” he complimented with a teasing smirk. He pointed up and down at your body, sizing you up lustfully.

‘Outfit.’ You knew it would draw his attention. The boy’s eyes lingered on your body. “I think I fit the dress code, look at-“ you began, maneuvering your body to show him examples of girls scattered around.

It wasn’t until you saw Dallas Winston standing by the bathroom door, just a little way down the hall. He had a watchful eye, scanning the room for some company. He had a red solo cup in one hand, the other stuffed away in his pocket. His right foot was kicked up against the wall, making a quite noticeable impression on most. It baffled you more than anything that he somehow got an invite to this party…a party full of socs.

His gaze shifted towards you, it was like he could somehow feel a pair of eyes glancing his way. He furrowed his brows, squinting as you made painfully awkward eye contact. He spotted you.

Quickly turning back around, you smiled sheepishly at your date. “You get my point…how ‘bout a snack?” You crept your hands to rest on his shoulders, leaning your chest forward.

The boy nodded, trying to comprehend why you all of a sudden seemed so panicked. He seemed unsure about reciprocating touch, it felt too risky. Your clammy hands, fast tone, and rushed conversation gave it all away. Something was up. “Yeah, sure… lead the way…?”

Your hands left his body like nothing, moving your feet as fast as possible to get away from Dallas. You couldn’t be caught sneaking out, not at a party like this, not on the other side of town, not with this mystery boy you kept as your little secret. A familiar voice called out behind you, a bitter tone detected, “Hey!”

Attempting to ignore the voice, you kept on, your date just beside you. A hand firmly spun you around, grabbing your shoulder. “Hey, I’m talkin’ to you, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

Fuck.

“What? I’m trying to have a good time, what’s the problem?” you tried your hardest to keep casual, responding with a hint of forced nonchalance.

Meanwhile, your date looked like a mix of both confusion and hesitation. Was Dallas somebody important? Why wouldn’t you be here? Was there seriously an issue with you and this boy speaking to one another? He crept a hand to your hip, pulling you closer to him.

Dallas sensed his confusion, shaking his head profusely. “No, no, no - I know her brothers.” He narrowed his eyes, sizing you up. There was nothing innocent about this date, your outfit, or your intentions. “I can’t believe ol’ Darry let you out like that. I mean…” Dallas scoffed, his crooked grin on full display, “You do look good…”

“Alright, alright - backtrack for me, man,” your date huffed, subconsciously shielding you away with an extended hand. “What the hell is going on?”

Standing sheepishly between the two, Dallas stared directly at the boy across from him. He didn’t like to feel intimidated, much less from a stranger. He swallowed hard, feeling his frustration rise. “I’m lookin’ out for her, I know damn well she ain’t supposed to be here.”

You chewed the corners of your gums and tried to contain your nervous laughter. “Well- don’t put it that way, I just…” Both boys fell dead silent as you struggled to come up with the words to describe how you managed to end up at such a place. “I didn’t tell my brother where I was going, I just… left. He wouldn’t mind anyway, I just didn’t feel like mentioning it to the warden.”

Dallas let out a dry laugh, completely unamused with your excuse. “Save it, man, that’s bullshit and you know it.” He stalked forward, swiping your date’s hand out of his way with confidence. “I’ll take you home, I ain’t too drunk.”

Your date was embarrassed. You seemed comfortable enough with Dallas for him to relax and not turn into a possessive jerk. He placed the swatted hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it to soothe his anxiety. “You know what, yeah… go on home, baby. I’ll call you sometime. It’s for the better I guess. I hope.”

Dallas held your bicep firmly, his eyes half-lidded with annoyance when your company spoke up. He was awfully sassy tonight, to say the least. He tugged you along with him, making a beeline for the exit.

It was silent between the two of you, even as you entered the passenger seat of his borrowed Thunderbird. You were buckled into the passenger seat, leaning the side of your head against the glass. As Dallas fumbled with the keys, he started the engine. He let out a deep sigh, not yet driving off. It seemed he had something to say, the fidgeting of his fingers along the wheel giving it away. He didn’t dare look you in the eye, he kept his gaze forward. “You know, you spoiled my game tonight…”

Bullshit, Dallas wouldn’t ever have a chance with those chicks! you thought to yourself. You shrugged, not uttering a word in reply.

“I could’ve left with one of those girls on my arm, and maybe had another one’s number in my pocket. You owe me,” he spoke lowly. He didn’t seem too angered… it was suspicious of him. Usually, those he cared for received that tough love he kept locked away.

Dallas drove past the line of parked cars outside of the house. He stayed quiet too, matching the energy you handed him. He slammed his hand against the wheel, pressing his foot to the brake pedal. It was late, the streets were empty enough for reckless driving. “I won’t snitch, I don’t think that’ll do you any good. You wise up and stay your ass at home from now on, I’m not doing this for you again. I’m being nice.”

“I won’t, thank you,” you mumbled. The delivery of your words didn’t seem too sincere or thankful. Your mind was too busy trying to deal with the fact that you had spent all this time and preparation for nothing. He dragged you out of the place before the ‘party’ really began!

Dallas took note of your tone. He continued to drive, reducing the force applied to the pedal. “I never thought I’d run into you over on this side of town,” he teased, his anger slowly melting away now that his point was made. “Darry ‘nd Soda would have a field day if I told them. Maybe I could tell them how you’re dressed-,” he laughed aloud.

“Dally, come on. You just said you wouldn’t snitch!” you protested, breaking your record of keeping quiet.

Dallas smiled smugly. “I’m not, but I got you to talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing even as a smile crept upon your cheeks. “Okay, okay- I shouldn’t have snuck out, and I was being stupid hanging out with that guy. I’m sorry.”

He momentarily took his eyes off of the road, shooting you a sarcastic glare. “Do I look like your brother or something? I don’t want an apology, I want you to make better choices. I’ve been to parties you wouldn’t survive in, I know better. You don’t.”

It was better to take his advice than to argue and have him rat you out after all. With a reluctant head nod, you caved in, “You’re right. I’ll ’wise up’.”

Now that the tension was clear, the drive back to the Curtis household was smooth. Maybe Dallas did change your mind after all, the right boy wouldn’t be there for you only when the process involved partying and sneaking out. There was uncertainty that came along with the lifestyle you experimented with. Some people couldn’t be trusted. You were rather lucky to have Dallas there, even if he soiled your fun for the night.

THANK YOU FOR READING, MY LOVES!! 💋

- Sophia 🫶🏼

81 notes · View notes