#sodapop curtis angst

[racetrackhigginsscigar]

hey gang i decided to try my hand at writing. this is my first work so please don’t bully me if it reads like shit :)

darry was standing shirtless in front of the mirror. now, this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, he would often flex in front of the mirror after his showers just to see how big he could make his muscles look. no, the occurrence wasn’t unusual, it was the thoughts racing through darry’s head that were. he had just finished taking his first shower in two long days. two days. two days ago, things took a turn. two days ago, darry fucked up.

pony ran away two days ago. johnny killed a soc two days ago. a boy died in the park two days ago.

darry hit pony two days ago.

now, as he stared back at himself in the mirror, he saw someone he didn’t recognize. he saw a coward with sunken eyes and a hollow face.

his mind raced with thoughts: what if i never hit pony? what if my brothers get taken away? what if pony never forgives me? what if SODA never forgives me? why do i have to be such a screw up? why did my parents have to die? when was the last time i ate? he thought the relentless questioning would never end.

then, he heard a soft knock on the bathroom door and soda peaked his head in. his hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes were half-lidded. it was obvious he had just woken up but when he saw darry, his eyes widened.

“dar? what are you doin?”

darry looked over at him. soda could see his red eyes, puffy from crying.

“oh dar…”

it was then the floodgates opened and darry cried in front of someone for the first time in a long time. he practically collapsed into soda’s arms, sobbing. he stayed in his brother’s arms for what seemed like an eternity, practically choking on sobs.

darry pulled back for a second and made direct eye contact with soda, tears still streaming out of his eyes. thousands of words were left unspoken but completely understood. they haven’t talked much these past few days, neither of them knew what to say.

soda stood there, taking in his brother’s appearance. darry looked thinner, his eyes were puffy and had large bags under them. his cheeks had sunken in a little and he was awfully pale.

“darry when’s the last time you ate something?”

silence.

“i- i don’t remember”

darry looked at the floor, he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“soda, im sorry…”

soda’s gaze softened, “it’s okay darry i know you didn’t mean to…” soda didn’t finish, he knew he didn’t have to.

“i just- i don’t know what happened and i was just worried- and- and i swear i didnt mean to hit him…” darry was practically blubbering one sentence into his apology.

“darry, i know. it’s okay” soda said, interrupting him.

they both stood there for a short moment. darry looked back up at soda and wrapped his arms around him.

“we can’t loose him soda… we already lost so much…”

soda hugged his brother tighter, his own tears threatening to fall, “we’re gonna find him dar… we’re gonna get him home.”

darry pulled back, sniffed, and offered a small smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes, “i know…” his voice was so quiet he barely heard himself.

“i’ll make you some breakfast”

darry nodded silently and trudged into his bedroom to get dressed for work. he had already lost his parents but he would be damned if he was gonna lose his brothers too.

after getting dressed, darry walked into the kitchen to find green eggs and a piece of toast with grape jelly on a plate. he heard the pipes squeak and the water start running for the shower.

so darry sat at the table and ate for the first time in a while. his eyes still burned from the tears he shed earlier but his burdens seemed a little lighter. he had soda by his side and there were going to do everything in their power to get their brother back.

[chippedshake]

Am I just fixing it just to break it?

Sodapop curses quietly as he gets up from the couch again. He could swear it hasn't been five minutes since he last stopped them from fighting, but they're at it again and now he has to talk them down. Again.

It's something stupid, for a change. Ponyboy hasn't done his homework for tomorrow and now he's peppering Darry with questions about the properties of... something.

"It was assigned last Friday, Pony, I don’t get why you're doing it now."

"Because I forgot! And your griping isn't helping any, it isn't gonna be done yesterday because you want it to be."

"But you can change your bad habits so it doesn't happen again. I swear, if I didn't see your report card, I'd think you just couldn't think."

"Can't you just lay off for once? Jesus, I just asked about what the octet rule was, it's not like I’m asking you to explain everything from scratch."

"No, I can't lay off, because if it was up to you, you'd singlehandedly ruin your whole future!"

Am I just hanging on, just so we can drown?

Is it even worth it, patching them up for them to just keep on fighting the next day? Is there any point to it? Or is he just pushing the same rock up the same hill every day only for gravity to beat him before he reaches the top?

Like the love we thought we found, no

When Darry had told them he was going to get custody over them, Soda had thought that it would bring them together. He never imagined sunshine and rainbows, but he thought they would become closer than they already were, have a bond forged in sweat and tears, not just blood.

But maybe it didn't count if the tears were cried alone and the sweat was just at work.

We're hoping that we don't just hit the ground

Every night, before he goes to sleep, Sodapop closes his eyes and prays that tomorrow will be different. He prays for his brothers to understand each other’s side, for them to finally listen to him, for them to finally see each other.

Because Soda may be stupid, but he's not delusional. He knows they won't last long like this, with fights every night about curfew and homework and dinner and textbooks. But there's no end in sight. How do you make someone see what they're desperately avoiding?

I've been pulling you close, but pushing me further

It takes him a couple months to realise he's lying to his brothers. He's pulling away, pretending like he's fine, like everything's fine, because he doesn't know any better.

It takes him a couple months to realise that his parents died too. That he's supposed to take time to grieve and get over their deaths on his own terms.

It takes him a couple months to realise that he doesn't even know himself anymore because he's been shoving his own feelings and thoughts down to make way for Darry and Ponyboy. Even when he's alone with Steve or Sandy, he doesn’t talk about his own feelings, only about Darry overworking and Ponyboy coming home late and the two of them fighting nonstop.

It takes him a couple months to realise why Sandy looks worried whenever they part ways and why Steve asks him how he is thirty times every time they meet up.

I've been holding it back, that I see you different

He still buys Pony a Pepsi whenever he comes to the DX and he still talks to Darry about the NFL, pretending like he knows (and cares) more than he really does. He still acts like he thinks they're his brothers, even though he can't help but hate them a bit for tearing him apart.

Sick of me remindin' you to love me like you say you do

"You going anywhere tonight, Pony?"

"Nope. Staying here."

There's no sound but the clinking of forks against plates.

"I'm going out with Sandy tonight, thanks for askin', Darry. Don't worry, I'll be back before it's too late, I know I gotta wake up early for work tomorrow," Soda says with a fake smile and faker cheer.

He's been trying telling the truth like it's a joke, lately, to see if it'll hit home somehow. Telling his brothers they're forgetting about him, that they aren't seeing him as an actual person anymore. "My day was good too, thanks for asking" and "since no one’s gonna ask anyway, lemme tell you about what happened to Steve today".

They aren't getting it and Soda's getting tired of having to remind them that he's their brother too, not just their middleman.

And I've been hurting myself to keep you from leaving

Sometimes, when Darry crosses a line, Sodapop can see Ponyboy's eyes dart around, calculating. He always starts with his backpack, then towards his room, his shoes, and then the door.

Darry never notices but Soda always does and that's how he knows he needs to intervene. Because if he doesn't say something to stop them, the argument will end with Ponyboy running out the door without even a coat on, which is the last thing they need right now.

So he'll always defend Ponyboy, even if he's wrong, because Darry would never leave but Ponyboy just might and he'll take a broken family held together by his own strength over two brothers who never speak.

I've been wonderin' whether we'll last the season

When Sodapop looks out the window one day and sees the snow melting, it feels like a miracle that he can still hear Ponyboy's steady breathing and Darry rummaging around the kitchen.

Wish we could've made this work

Five months later, Soda's running desperately because he can't make this work, he can't just be the glue that holds them together, because he couldn’t keep his parents there and he couldn’t keep Sandy there and he can't keep holding them together.

And, God, would he love to be able to say that he made it work. He would love to say that he found a way to make his brothers stop fighting, to make them remember that they love each other and don't need to argue about every little thing.

But he can't, because he's not enough and he never will be and sometimes he just wants to run away.

But now I know that I need more

"Golly, you two, it's bad enough having to listen to it, but when you start trying to get me to take sides... We're all we've got left. We ought to be able to stick together against everything. If we don't have each other, we don't have anything. If you don’t have anything, you end up like Dallas... and I don't mean dead, either. I mean the way he was before. And that's worse than dead. Please... don't fight anymore."

I need more

When Darry and Ponyboy listen to his little speech, he swears it's the first time they've really listened to him in eight months.

They tell him they'll do better, say they'll get along, that they won't wear him down anymore.

He tries his best to believe them and they race back home, laughing as they walk through the front door together.

[jaidens]

Can you do a fic where the reader's been dating Sodapop for a year and she was a really bad father? She opens up to him about the trauma and he comforts her about it.

And Stood There Loving You And Wished Them All Away

pairing [s] : sodapop curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : abuse (physical and mental) | short fr

a/n [s] : ty sm for the request 🫶

You and Sodapop Curtis have been dating for a year now, pushing through bumpy and love-stricken moments. You were considerably in love with the man, absolutely head over heels for everything about him. Sodapop cared: that was shown throughout the time you met him. He would treat everyone with respect, hoping they'd give it back, such as customers and even his brothers. You knew him as your life, the man who held you when times got hard.

You hadn't told him about part of your life, your childhood. If the topic was mentioned, you would switch it with a kiss on the lips or a hug that squeezed his organs around. He was curious about how you covered such an important part from everyone.

Sodapop looks at you, his hands enveloping yours. He can tell you're shaking, his hand going to lie on your upper neck; just below your jaw.

“It's okay. You don't have to tell me today.” Sodapop reassures but you shake your head, and take a shaky breath in. You grip his hand for dear life, holding you down to Earth when you begin talking about your experiences. You don't remember when you started crying, but all you feel is Soda’s calloused fingers rubbing away the tears that fall. You tell him about everything, as it all begins to fall out of you: covered up emotions and feelings.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry.” You beg out in worry about him knowing things you wanted to keep covered from him in hopes he would stay. Sodapop’s eyebrow raises and he looks at you funny. “Why are you apologizing, honey?” He asks and you pull yourself into his arms, crying into his soft shoulder.

He smells like everything you loved about him. It relaxes you once you get comfortable. “I’m sorry— I just, I kept that part covered because I was told it was an unlikeable trait about me.” You admit and Sodapop gives you a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Don’t ever keep something like that away. I had no idea why you were struggling, I thought it was my fault. And, it is far beyond an unlikeable trait. It shows how strong and worthy you are.”

You smile at his comforting words, giving him a kiss against his right after he said it. Suddenly, that weight that sat on you is disappearing along with Sodapop’s serious expression he puts on. “Thank you, so much. That meant a lot to me.” You thank his gently, kissing him once more and Sodapop pulls you back into his arms while his fingers draw hearts on your back.

“Always and forever, honey.”

[lostghost0o0]

he coulda dodged smh

LOVE YALL POOKIES <333

[thewulf]

Don't Cry || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - In that, you mentioned Dally and Two-Bit walking the reader home and I had a request idea I wanted to send you. Could you write a Dallas Winston x reader where reader is a little younger than him but he’s really protective of her??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhh these Outsiders requests are so much fun! I'm writing them so quick. Fresh inspo is so much fun. Thank you for the request and hope you enjoy! @fluentmoviequoter

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: knifes, knife cutting, blood, crying, yelling

You’d known Dallas Winston for a long time. Not your whole life but it felt like it. He was always a constant in your life. Your relationship was always a weird one with the Winston boy. You could joke all day long in the confines of the house but as soon as you left it he wanted nothing to do with you. Like he was embarrassed of you. Little did you know he was just trying to keep your squeaky-clean reputation intact. For you might’ve hung, lived with and been around greaser’s but you weren’t one really. You were a greaser by association. Dally always said you were far too kind, too pure for this lifestyle so he tried his hardest to keep you as far away as he could.

It wasn’t easy when you gave him those pleading looks outside the Curtis residence to just acknowledge your presence. He tried his best not to cave. Not even when all he wanted to do was laugh about something stupid Ponyboy or Sodapop did. But you couldn’t be seen with him out and about so casually. Then the Soc’s would start to target you. He didn’t know what he was quite capable of at the thought of somebody hurting you. As he got to know you and the Curtis after moving to Tulsa he swore he’d protect you day and night. He wouldn’t let a pretty little hair on your pretty little head get touched.

He'd decided early on when he met you, he was ten and you were eight, that he was going to get you tough. He was going to be hard on you, not too hard though. If you were going to grow up a greaser then you needed to know how to defend yourself. He spent the next eight years teaching you, training you, protecting you. He didn’t realize when it happened but slowly he stopped looking at you like a younger sister. Those protective feelings went far deeper than familial love. No, he actually loved you. He’d fallen in love with the one person he really shouldn’t have fallen for. Darry would skin him alive if he knew. Soda would beat him into oblivion. Pony would tell him how disappointed he was in some sort of poetic way that went over his head. He knew he just had to keep these growing feelings quiet. For your sake. You didn’t need to deal with him or his endless amounts of baggage. Even if he could see how attached you had grown to him too.

To say your relationship had grown confusing and chaotic over the years had been an understatement. Even Darry had picked up on some of the awkward tension that seemed to pop up out of nowhere when the two of you were left alone. Soda caught onto the longing gazes Dally would throw your way. He even caught you a few times doing the same to him. Pony wasn’t blind either. He was your very best friend and confidant. Whenever the conversation of Dallas Winston came up you shied away. Scared of letting something loose on accident. All the brothers knew there was something there they just didn’t know if and what would happen.

After your parents had died he’d been there for all of you but especially you. You’d taken it the hardest. Your mom was your favorite person and she just disappeared one day. You were lost and had to rely on teenage boys to guide you through it all. Your parents had nobody they could fall back on to take care of you. Thank goodness for Dally. He’d quite literally pulled you out of the depression you’d slipped into by just being there. Helping you. Asking for nothing in return. That’s when you fell in love. He’d shown you his true colors under the layers and layers to Dallas Winston. Under it all he was there for you and promised to never leave. And you knew he'd keep that promise, you just knew it.

Slowly the months ticked by and you’d gotten back to normal. Going out with friends and boys. Dallas watching you like a hawk whenever you went on dates with guys he knew were nothing compared to you. But he decided not to say a word and let you live your life. It was worth seeing the smile come back to life after seeing you so sad for too long. Seeing you happy was worth it all.

So, when Ponyboy asked you to accompany him on a Paul Newman special at the movie theatre you couldn’t refuse him. He was so excited about seeing the film you could hardly imagine saying no to him. You’d always enjoyed the movies too so it was hardly a tough sell on his part.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Saturday. Maybe if Dally was there to accompany you. But you couldn’t admit that. If you did then everything would change. Who knows what Darry would do to Dally. How Soda would treat him. This could get weird, and you hated weird. You’d rather keep it normal even if it meant having to keep him as a friend.

“Which one did you like better?” Pony asked once the two of you had left the theatre. He placed his hands in his pockets giving you a quizzical look. The two of you waked slowly along the cracking road that needed some serious repairs. Your head spun towards the street seeing a car full of Soc’s roll up chipping at Ponyboy about something, ignoring you completely. Even though you were over a year older than him Pony stood much taller than you. He pushed you behind his back as he yelled back at the boys. You tugged at the back of his shirt letting him know it was time to go. It wasn’t smart to get chippy with five of them in the car. They outnumbered the two of you and you were rather useless in a fight.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you across the street. After a moment of walking along the residential road you answered him, “The Hustler was far better Gidget Goes to Rome. Paul Newman really is a mastermind.”

He smirked bobbing his head in agreement, “Thought you’d say that.”

You feigned offense at that statement, “Am I that predictable Ponyboy Curtis?” You raised your eyebrows as you walked along the dirt path. The theatre wasn’t far from home thankfully. Maybe just over a mile. A twenty-minute walk or so.

“No. I just know you I guess dear sister.”

You smiled at your younger brother. Even since your parents had passed you’d taken on the nurturing role for him and even Soda more recently. Darry had none of it though. You’d grown close to your two brothers since their death’s. Darry kept his distance trying to do his best to raise you instead of letting you help him. He was trying to take on the role of your father without even asking if that’s the three of you wanted. But you didn’t dare question him.

You gave his hand a soft squeeze, “That you do Ponyboy. You know me better than anybody else.” You spotted a vehicle fast approaching from behind the two of you as you went in for a hug.

Your eyes widened seeing the same Mustang before barreling towards you, “We gotta run.” You grabbed his arm and started sprinting down the road. Pony was faster, so much faster than you, so he tried to drag you along only ending up tripping you in the process. They caught up in their Mustang an instant. He stood in front of you as you scrambled to your feet.

You gulped as the five boys got out of the car walking towards you, “Get out of here.” Pony tried to sound tough, but you heard the waver in your younger brothers voice.

One of them flipped a blade open. Your eyes shot wide open as you grabbed his shirt trying to tug him away. But they were faster as one of them tugged on your arm pulling you to the ground in front of Pony. You let out a scream trying to draw the greasers attention a few houses down. Hopefully they were hanging out outside like they usually were. Drinking beers or some shit.

“Darry! Soda!” You yelled as Pony as was taken down to the ground with you. He tried to let out a few calls for help but was muffled by something being shoved in his mouth.

“Shut her up.” One of them said, Randy maybe? You’d recognized him as the one with the redhead from school.

And before you knew it that same blade was placed right to your throat, “Pretty little things got a mouth on her huh? Maybe this’ll quite you down.” The overly-cologne scented Soc smirked as he pressed the blade across your throat drawing yet another yell right from you. He cut you. He really cut you.

Before you knew it they were running away. Your brothers and friends had heard you and Ponyboy yelling and came running right to your defense. It was only a little over a minute you were down on the ground, but that minute made you tremble. You’d never been so dominated like that in your life.

You looked down shocked at everything that had just happened. You’d felt the blood trickling down your neck more so than throbbing of the slice the Soc had given to you. Darry pulled you up from the ground, so you were sitting at eye level with his crouched form. After a moment of him holding the handkerchief up to your neck he finally spoke, “They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?” His voice was low. He was pissed. You knew you were in trouble later on once everything had settled.

You shook your head afraid to look at your older brother, “No, I’m fine.” You whispered afraid of what he might say next.

Ponyboy made his way over to you, crouching down next to Darry, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t…”

You stopped him, “It’s fine Pony. I’m okay really. Just a cut.” A small smile wavered over your face trying your best to reassure him.

Darry scoffed hating how you were playing this off so casually. Like his kid sister hadn’t gotten a knife pulled on her. Like you hadn’t gotten cut by that very same knife. It was every nightmare he had coming to light right in his backyard. At least the two of you had gotten that far before being attacked.

“Hey, Y/N.” Soda spoke after running up. His face dropped seeing the blood running down your neck, “Did they pull a blade on you?” He put his hands on your shoulders so he could get a better look.

Your face flushed with embarrassment seeing all of your brothers eyes right on you. Turning away you couldn’t take Soda’s intense gaze, “Yeah.”

He pulled your head back towards him, “Hey kid, they ain’t gonna hurt you no more. Come on.” Grabbing your hand, he hoisted you to your feet with ease. Darry gave you one last quick look before he grabbed Pony by the arm. You gulped knowing Darry was going to have it in for him. You needed to talk to your older brother about being so hard on Pony. It was just an accident after all. It wasn’t your fault the Paul Newman films kept the two of you in deep conversation not seeing the Mustang until it was too late.

Dally only interrupted you and Soda once Darry had pulled Pony ahead. He needed to make sure that his favorite Curtis sibling was okay. A minor wave of panic rang through his body seeing you pushed to the ground next to Pony with those boys had their filthy Soc hands on you. Rage washed over him as he kicked the side of the fancy car when they fled away from the scene.

Dallas’s eyes scanned over you with concern only stopping when he saw the trail of blood rolling down your neck, “What the hell is that? Did they cut you?” He took a step closer, grabbing at your face with a delicate touch. Almost as if he was afraid he’d hurt you further if he grasped on too tightly.

“Jesus, Curtis. What’d I tell you about defending yourself?” He gave your cheek a soft squeeze before dropping his hand. He spotted the already bloodied Handkerchief turned rag in Soda’s hand and held out his own to ask for it from your brother.

You looked down, “It was five on two Dally. What were we supposed to do?” You asked back earnestly wondering what the hell you were actually supposed to do. Run? Pony was faster and you’d only slow him down so that wasn’t an option. You’d already tripped trying to keep up with him. Try and fight? Well, you got a blade pulled on you so that wasn’t great either.

He bit his mouth trying his best not to snap at you. His adrenaline was high, and he was scared at the thought of you actually getting hurt, “I don’t know Y/N. Fight back? You were just lying there!”

You stopped walking abruptly, brushing Soda away knowing he didn’t need to hear the conversation about to go on between you and the hot-headed man beside you, “Can you go make sure Pony’s okay?” You asked him.

Soda gave you a curious look before finally handing Dally the handkerchief, “You sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” You gave him a quick push before turning back to Dally, “What is wrong with you?”

He stepped closer so your brothers couldn’t hear ahead of you, “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m just trying to keep you alive Curtis. I should be asking you the same! Why are you out walking alone with Pony this late on a Saturday anyway? You two know better. Those no good for nothing assholes only want to fight.” He grumbled before dabbing at the semi-dried blood on your chin.

You let out a huff of irritation. He was being so caring yet so damn frustrating, “What? I can’t go anywhere without a damn chaperone now? I’m confined to my brothers house? Is that how it’s going to be Dally? Pony isn’t enough now?” Your voice was snappy as you pushed and pushed and pushed him. He was already feeling on edge from the whole thing and your attitude was about to be his breaking point. There was nobody on this planet that could get under his skin like you could, nobody except for you. You’d found a way to weasel your way into his ice-cold heart and sink a burning ember into it. For Dallas Winston would do anything for you. But man, did you frustrate him to no end.

“Jesus, you know that’s not what I mean! Stop putting words into my mouth Curtis.” He put his hands up in the air in frustration, raising his voice just a tad. Darry turned back observing, making sure you were fine. He knew Dally would never hurt you. He could see the way the Winston boy looked at his younger sister. He wasn’t stupid. Dally had always been soft on you. Except he wasn’t. He pushed you harder than he pushed anyone. He wanted you to know how to defend yourself. With your hands, a knife, a pipe whatever. He was going to teach and push because he needed you alive. You were the only thing grounding him to this planet at the moment.

Your eyes narrowed on his, your voice raising as well, “Then what do you mean Dallas? Go ahead. Say exactly what you mean. I can take it.” You’d only used his full name when you felt like being patronizing.

He looked like he was contemplating everything before he turned back to you, “You need to be more careful!” He snapped. He didn’t raise a hand on you but instead yelled right at you stopping you in your tracks. Dally had never yelled at you before. Scolded sure. Disappointed yes. Angry, of course. But yelled? Never.

Your brothers must’ve seen the look in your eyes as they all stepped in. Darry pulled Dally away telling him to cool off. Soda grabbed your arm pulling you back towards the house. And Pony happily chatted away trying to take your mind off it.

“Dally’s just an asshole, you know that!” Pony’s final ditch effort to get you to smile came up miserably short.

You gave him a solemn nod, “Yeah, I know. Never to me though.” The sadness in your voice must’ve been evident because that had him quiet down the remainder of the short walk home. You brushed them all away telling them that you were ‘fine’ and going to take a nap.

They left you alone for a few hours but when you didn’t come out for dinner all three brothers grew worried. Soda knocked on your door lightly, “Hey kid. Supper’s getting cold. Darry made one of your favorites, spaghetti, and meatballs.”

It was sweet how much they cared on you when you were down, but damn was it suffocating sometimes. It was times like these when you wish you could run to your mom and ask her advice on it all. Boys were… boys and they often didn’t have a clue what ran through your head.

“I’m not hungry Soda. Maybe later, I’m working on homework.” You heard him sigh before walking away. You’d thought you would have gotten rid of them but another, much louder knock broke you away from the essay you were committed to finishing.

“Pony said you both skipped lunch to go to the movies. Come on down and get some dinner kiddo.” Darry’s much deeper voice spoke through the door. He tried twisting the knob but stopped when it wouldn’t budge. As much as he wanted to knock your door in he knew better. You weren’t like his brothers. No, you were so entirely different. He couldn’t treat you the same or you’d most likely find yourself a foster home instead.

“I had popcorn. I’m still full from that.” It wasn’t a lie. You weren’t hungry. You were uneasy and nervous. And wanted to finish the damn easy that you’d been staring at for the better part of three hours now.

“Alight kid, I’ll save you a plate.” He grumbled before beginning to walk away.

“Thanks Dar.” You hummed ignoring the lump forming at the back of your throat. You were so lucky to have your brothers who cared for you so deeply. You just wished they’d give you the space you needed.

And you thought they did before, yet another knock came to your bedroom door not thirty minutes later. With a huff you set the pencil down, “Go away Pony. I’m not in the mood.”

A laugh so distinct came from the other side of the door. That was certainly not Ponyboy, “Try again, sweetheart.” Dallas. Dallas freaking Winston. What had your brothers done?

Your palms began to sweat as your heartrate sped up rapidly, “What are you doing here?” It came out colder than you meant but Dally just found it amusing. He knew you couldn’t hurt a fly much less hurt him words. Albeit you might be the only person that could actually hurt him with words if you wanted to. Dally was soft for one person. You.

“I’m here for you.”

You sighed, “Go away. I’m not hungry. I don’t know who went and got you or called you or whatever. I’m not in the mood Dally.”

He put his head on your door knowing your mood was stemming from the argument earlier. He had snapped at you, and he felt bad. Especially after Darry of all people came knocking at his door pleading with him to come back to his place and talk to you.

His voice was low but he knew you could hear it, “You and I both know I’m not going away little Curtis. So, you can open that door and we can talk about it, or I can sit here all night waiting. Those are the options.” You heard his stubborn ass slide down the door. You knew they could most likely pick the lock or break down the door. But Darry wasn’t stupid. He knew it’d cause more harm than any good. You needed your safe space away from all the madness of being a greaser. A place you could lock yourself away from.

“Please,” Your voice cracked as fresh tears flowed down without you even noticing, “Just go away.”

You heard him click his tongue, “No can-do sweetheart. I gave you the options. Your turn to pick.” His voice was smug. Was he relishing in making you squirm? Neither was really an option. Both forced your hand. But then again this was Dallas. He got what he wanted.

You tried to turn back to your essay all you could think about was Dallas freaking Winston sitting on the opposite side of your door. You knew his stubborn ass wouldn’t leave either and that drove you nuts. You’d never be able to finish the essay or go to bed knowing he was sitting there just waiting on you.

With a heavy sigh you got up, walked towards the door, opened it without so much as a second thought and found him sitting right next to your door, “Go away.” You tried in your meanest voice, but it came out as a whisper.

He shook his head as he stood to his feet, “That’s not going to happen sweetheart.” He leaned against your doorframe pushing you back inside your room.

“Why can’t you guys just leave me alone for one night? One stupid night. That’s all I’m asking for!” You’d hardly ever raised your voice, but you were tired. Exhausted. Scared of the Soc’s that pulled a freaking knife out on you. Frightened because when you needed a helping hand all you got was a scolding voice.

“We’re worried about you is all. You got attacked. A knife pulled out on you…” He lowered his voice hoping it’d help settle down the rage he saw in your eyes. It was weird. Different. He was used to such a sweetness about you. He’d never seen you angry. Upset sure. But this was something entirely different.

Your eyes bugged, “You think I don’t know that? That maybe I just need some alone time away from all of this?” You didn’t hate being a greaser, no. That would never be the case. You loved your life with your brothers. You were just so damn tired of always being alert these days. Being a girl put you in a weird position with the greasers. The Soc’s never laid hands on you until today. It was startling. You’d always heard how dangerous the life was but today laid it out in front of you how truly dangerous it could be if you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He put his hands up in defense, “You need to calm down, Y/N.” His eyes shifted from one of a confident gaze to one that filled with concern

You wanted to slap him across his pretty little face, “You saying that is definitely not going to calm me down!” You were beyond frustrated now. You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted him to leave you alone.

His eyes downturned as he saw your frigid stance. You were, for the first time he had recalled in his life, angry. Like angry, angry. Like you looked like you wanted to rip his head off angry, “Hey, I’m sorry. But I need you to relax a little. Sit down for me?” You were struck by his apology. Dallas Winston saying he’s sorry? You thought you’d so sooner be struck by lightning than hear those words come out of his mouth. The rage in your body calmed at that.

With an icy glare you sat down on your bed. You weren’t sure why you were listening to him. You were angry with him. He yelled at you when you needed sympathy. He’d scared you when you were already terrified. You thought the world of him, but that world came crashing down oh so quickly. You knew of the Dally he had hidden so well from you. Pony, Soda, and Darry would tell you stories all the time of how menacing he was. How he was so fearless in the face of it all. How could you not love on the man?

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked after shutting your bedroom door behind him. He knew your brothers were listening in, but it at least gave the illusion of a private conversation. Not that it mattered. They’d get the damn conversation out of one of the two of you eventually anyway. There was no privacy with the greasers.

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him, clearly not fine.

He shook his head giving you that damn chuckle that meant he knew you were lying, “I’m going with you’re not. You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” He asked once more. Stubborn.

“I want you to go away. That’s what I want.” The word weren’t as harsh this time. More like a soft rumble.

He sighed, “Come on Curtis. It’s just me. I know you and I know you’re not okay or fine or whatever word you wanna use. You can talk to me. It’ll be okay.” He grabbed for your hand that was nervously clutching the edge of your mattress giving it a comforting squeeze when his fingers locked with yours.

You felt the words coming on before you could stop them and soon you were rambling, “I’m overwhelmed Dally! I’m scared. I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll feel comfortable walking down the damned street anymore! And none of you will leave me alone to think about it!” You fired back exasperated. The building rage inside your eyes quieted down at the admission. You were terrified of what happened next. Everybody was always on edge these days. Life went from easy to hard in what felt like a night after your parents had left.

He opened his arms up, “Alright, come on. Come here pretty girl.” It didn’t take him much effort to pull you right into his embrace. In another instance you’d probably have fought him, but you were terrified and exhausted and his warm embrace was everything you needed. He pulled you closer before resting his head on yours, “It’s okay to be scared.” He whispered knowing that your nosey as hell brothers were likely sticking their ears to your door.

You closed your eyes letting the scent of his cologne mixed with the long day wash over you. So much more refreshing than the scent that washed over you earlier. Dally was always your comfort. No matter how harsh a day or words that were spat you knew you could count on him. No matter how mean you were to him either, “You yelled at me.” You felt another wave of tears come on. God, you felt so pathetic in his arms crying about being yelled at. Some greaser you were.

“I know.” He sighed giving you another reassuring squeeze, “You scared me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just let out my frustration out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve been there to protect you.” He sounded a bit angrier not that he was getting it off his chest.

You pulled your head back gaping at his with a confused expression, “Is Dallas Winston apologizing?”

He gave you that soft smirk that you’d come to love, “If you tell someone I did, I’ll deny it.” He brushed the stray tears away with his thumb, “I don’t like it when you cry.”

You laid your head back down on his chest, “Don’t make me cry then.” Quipping back, you knew that wasn’t entirely fair. He wasn’t the sole reason you were in tears. But he was the reason you were crying then.

He leaned down whispering in your ear, “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. You know I’m a fuck up. But I’ll try. I’ll always try for you.” There was no chance your brothers could hear him for you hardly could. Or maybe that was the rough pounding in your ears. He wanted it to stay between the two of you. He knew Darry would flip if he tried to make a pass at his sister. So, he’d keep his distance from you, for now. But he couldn’t promise to restrain himself if you made advances on him, he’d fold in an instant if you did.

“I believe you.” You fisted his shirt in your hands, grasping onto him. This certainly wasn’t what friends did. But it felt right to cling onto him. To mold into his touch and his embrace. Dally felt so incredibly meant for you the thought of not being with him hurt you.

He held onto you for just a bit longer before pulling back, “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. You’ve got me. Your brothers. All those friends. You’ll be just fine.”

You gave him a quick nod brushing the fogginess out of your eyes, “Thank you Dally.”

“Always. Now come on, let’s go eat before Darry force feeds you.” He stood, unwrapping himself from you, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Darry would, wouldn’t he?” You smiled taking his hand in yours happily.

He gave you that look, “Let’s not find out.” Before pulling you out the door. To nobody’s surprise were all three Curtis brothers not even subtly eavesdropping in on the conversation right outside your door.

“All of you. Unbelievable.” Your laugh let them know they’d called just the right person to brighten your spirits. Darry knew it was only a matter of time before you realized that he was your person. The thought terrified him. The older you got the closer the two of you grew. But time and time again Dallas had shown Darry just how much he loved you too. His actions and his words showed just how much he actually did care for you.

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

[averagefandomist]

WHAT THE FUCK I'M IN TEARS??? /pos

Ugh, this kills me in the bestest way possible. You all are amazing writers, the lot of you.

I enjoy a good Vietnam!Soda fic as much as the next angst-loving soul, and I will gobble up as many PTSD fics as you can throw at me. But with that in mind, I think they’re all wrong. 😂

I think Soda went to Vietnam fearless, bright and shining as the day he was born. None of this terror, or angst, shaking hands and teary eyes—I don’t think it ever really occurred to him that he might die. Soda, who never quite understood the seriousness of the world. Soda, who’d lost more loved ones in 16 years than some people do in a lifetime, but never lost his laughter. I think he read the draft notice and saw it as just another adventure—just another rumble, a thrill and a dance, a fight to one-up all his other buddies’ fights.

The day he left, he hugged his brothers tight. Slapped Darry on the shoulder, ruffled Pony’s hair, yelled “see ya soon!” before racing off across the airport tarmac. Duffel bag flung over his shoulder. Hair wild in the wind. Bright, beautiful, immortal.

He never fought in a single battle.

He died the day he landed, in the vehicle driving him to base, caught in a landmine the metal detectors should have found. He died with a joke on his lips. He died in seconds. That greaser boy from the East Side, who flunked in everything but mechanics and gym—doomed by the narrative, he never stood a chance.

But it’s alright. Because the real tragedy would have been if he lived.

Soda wasn’t meant to grow old, the way roses aren’t meant to live past summer. And he wasn’t meant to come home from a war that would have twisted him into something unrecognizable. Broken, a shell of his former glory, ruined beyond repair. A version of Soda that would never, ever be Soda again.

Death came before the war destroyed him. He never trembled in the trenches or slogged through jungle mud, never watched a buddy bleed out or saw his own bullet tear the soul from a body. He died before he knew what fear truly meant. He died young, still laughing, thinking about his brothers, believing in goodness, believing he would live forever.

Sodapop Curtis died golden.

[hellothereimaloser]

The pain, the suffering! Anyways I love 'Soda leaving to Vietnam' plotline so there you go (but I'd like to think that he survives and comes back lol)

[melticholy]

poor soda 😢

[sarcasticallyexplicit11]

I think some people forget that Darry lost his parents too. His grief isn’t loud. His grief is a quiet gnawing on his heart and his soul until there’s nothing left for it to chew. People remember that Ponyboy and Soda lost their parents because they’re young, they grieve loud and wildly and so hard that you’ll always know they lost someone. Darry hides his pain away under lock and key so that he can stay a life raft for his brothers to cling onto. But one day the lock is going to snap, and people will remember: they were Darry’s parents too.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: sodapop, ponyboy, johnny cade, and dallas winston

↳ warnings: mentions of being beaten up, various injuries, and angst. no actual description of being jumped

↳ notes: could be interpreted as romantic or platonic. had trouble trying to nail all of them down, so i hope i did them justice. reblogs and comments and greatly appreciated

↳ song: blue moon (take five)—elvis presely

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩

• It's mid-day when he stumbles in from a long morning of working on cars down at the DX with Steve. Grease is all along the skin of his hands, and a different kind can be seen slicking back his hair, but that's nothing a hot shower can't fix

• He was on his way to do just that, enjoying the for once empty house as he did so, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw you splayed out on the couch

• You were so still his first thought was that you were taking a nap. But once Soda looked closer, he quickly realized you were doing anything but sleeping

• "Hey there Soda." You slurred with a careless grin, elevating your head the best you could to keep blood from dripping into your eye; the likes of which was already beginning to swell an angry red color

• It was clear to Soda what had happened. Everyone in the gang had been jumped once or twice, the more minor ones resulting in a fist fight or two while the bigger fights ended up with scars like Johnny had, and he could tell this was one of the latter

• "Good glory."

• Soda immediately dropped everything to take care of you. Or, when you wouldn't let him fuss over you, insisting you were fine (you were not), he goes out of his way to keep an eye on you. The only times he leaves your side on the couch is to bring you some rubbing alcohol and a bandage for the open wounds

• Turns into such a mother hen. Even after getting a closer look at your injuries, which turned out to be less troubling than he had expected, he still refuses to leave you alone

• "What were you doing walking in that part of town?" He throws his hands in the air as you finally explained where you'd gotten jumped. "You know we ain't liked much there, man."

• You grunted with a mix of pain and annoyance as you sat yourself up more. "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly expecting to get jumped in broad daylight on a public street now, was I?"

• He supposes that's a fair point, but won't admit it. Especially not while your skin is turning various shades of the rainbow

• After that day he always makes sure to remind you not to walk anywhere soc's are known to hang. It even goes as far as him suggesting he could draw you a map, to which you respond by reminding him that you'd lived here just as long as he had and could walk by yourself thank you very much

• "At least make sure you carry a blade or something, yeah?" He practically begs you, all the while staring at the small scar that swiped across the beginning of your hairline. A memory of when you had been stupid enough to get into a fight you knew you wouldn't win

• "Yeah yeah whatever Soda." You puff, promising him that if anything like that ever happens again you won't hesitate to call him or one of the other guys

• He might be a bit overbearing, but by god does Soda love you, so don't you go getting beat up on now

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲

• This was before he had gotten tag teamed on the way back from the movies, so frankly, when Ponyboy finds you leaning against a brick wall downtown with your head all but limp against it, he thinks he's found a dead body

• Pony is just about to nervously pass it when he notices your shoes—the exact same type he'd seen you wearing the last time you'd met up with him

• Has no idea what to do at first. He'd never seen anyone other than Johnny look like this after getting jumped, and the other boy had been crying. You were just laying there. He supposed that if he had been you, he would have been hollering for his brothers by now

• Doesn't freak out. That's not in his nature. Instead, Pony kind of just stares at you for a moment before walking over and shaking you. Perhaps with a bit more force than nessicary

• Despite his gift with words, Pony couldn't describe the relief that washed over him when he opened his eyes even if he wanted to

• "What happened?" He says your name with an underlying quiver to it, eyes darting around your shoulders as he looks at bruises and cuts. Nothing serious he hopes, but it's hard to tell in the moonlight. If he squints his eyes hard enough, he thinks he sees purple marks in the shape of fingers around your neck

• Sure enough, when you speak your voice is a little wheezey

• "What does it look like?" You cough, throwing your head back against the wall with enough effort that Pony hears a crack. "Owch. Forgot that was there."

• He isn't sure if your asking him about your face, or talking about the brick wall. Either way he wouldn't know what to say, so he just responds by standing up and bringing you with him

• Ponyboy feels about as young as he looks when the two of you first start walking down the dimly lit streets, but by the time he's close enough to see the lights of his house, he swears to himself that his muscles would've given out if the walk had been another block longer

• His brothers, and whoever else happens to be over at the house at the time, mostly take over once he manages to pry the screen door open with his free hand and toss you inside. Pony stands by as they make sure you'll be okay, occasionally making use of his hands by bringing you water or disinfectant

• He tries to skip school the next day to stay home with you and make sure you sleep alright, but is sent off anyways when Darry vetos that idea before he could even fully suggest it

• He's real eager to get home all through the school day, and is glad when he walks in on you sitting in his kitchen that afternoon, rubbing at the spots on your neck as you eat a meal Darry managed to scrounge up for you

• Let's just say Pony is always the first to ask you to be safe when you go out alone after that

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲

• If this is Johnny before he himself gets jumped, then you're getting a very concerned friend questioning you in a soft voice as he tries not to look at your injuries too much. He knows that he hates it when people stare at him after his dad hits him, so he attempts to offer you the curtosy he never got

• Post beaten Johnny though? He's a nervous wreck

• It's even worse if he finds you before you find him. His first thought is that the people that did this to you might still be around, and he's ashamed of himself for wanting to run away. Later when he confesses that train of thought to you, you reassure him he's fine and that anyone would have done the same thing, but he still gets an icky feeling in his gut anytime he thinks about it

• Assuming that you manage to stumble upon him first though, Johnny knows what to do and how to do it. It's almost sad that he knows the exact way to deal with a situation with this, but seeing as it happened to him not too long ago, it's not exactly a surprise

�� He can't stop himself for looking for signs of ring indents on your face as he wipes blood off your face with shakey hands. His gaze is so intense that even through the pounding in your head you can tell what Johnny's thinking

• "It wasn't the same guys." You croak out. Johnny is momentarily startled at your words and turns as if to move away before hesitantly returning to the task at hand

• "Oh." His voice cracks. "Good."

• After making sure you're no longer bleeding, or at the very least hurting with every breath you take, he calls Ponyboy up first thing. It's the only other person he immediately thought of in the moment, and can't remember a time that he was more greatful then when Pony shows up to help him

• The two boys eventually tell everyone else, but that night Johnny relived every bad moment he's ever experienced all in one, and doesn't know that he'd have been able to deal with that if Pony or you hadn't been there; even if you were beaten black and blue

• Sometime later Johnny realizes that he'd been jumping at little things less and less, and a small part of him wonders if going through that with you that one night helped him to overcome some of his own fears. Even if by a little bit

• The thought it is comforting

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬

• Red light filtered through the bar windows as you stumbled up rickety steps to knock on an equally as rickety door

• Your teeth chattered in the night despite it being in the middle of summer, mustering the most genuine smile you could as the entrance eventually opened

• "Dallas here?" You asked the man in the door with a poorly disguised groan

• Whatever would have happened next was promptly cut short at you felt your throat tighten. With a lurch in both your stoumach and your body, you leaned forward to vomit straight on Buck Merril's boots

• "Urgh. Oops."

• Buck didn't even bother to growl at you or go look for Dallas before snatching you inside. If it had been a busier night, or if he had liked those boots more, he might have done either of those things. Or just straight up left you to sit on that doorstep until morning

• But Buck knew just by looking at you that you were in no condition to be left alone, and that Dallas would kill him if one of his friends died on his doorstep

• The bartender forwent knocking on Dallas' door before busting it open. He only had time to hope that his friend wasn't hooking up with anyone before stomping in, your dazed figure trailing behind him

• Thankfully it was just Dallas in the room. Just a pissed, shirtless looking Dallas. The way he shot up from in his bed made Buck think he had been trying to get some sleep and failing

• "They showed up looking for you. Let me know if you need to phone the hospital." He mummbled before slamming the door on the way out. Dallas barely had time to ask what in the fuck he was talking about before you planted face first on the foot of his bed

• Later he would be annoyed that you got bloodstains all over his sheets, but in the moment he was more focused on your ripped clothes and skin littered with flecks of glass and gravel

• "Got any bandaids Dally?" You ask with a dry tone, the joke falling flat at he threw the covers off of himself. Part of them landed on your head over at the other end of the bed, and he rushed to move then away

• "Shit— uh, hold on." Was all he could manage. You took it upon yourself to cautiously crawl up against the wall, mindful of the way your body screamed at you to stop as you did so

• Dallas finished russeling through one of his dresser drawers— the very same one that he would later go through to give Ponyboy and Johnny his gun after their late night misshap —coming back to you with a sunbleached cloth in hand and some pills

• "Hold that wherever its bleeding the most." He said gruffly. "And take these."

• "What are they?" You swallowed them without waiting for his answer

• "Hangover pills. The only sort of medicine Buck has here that isn't white and powdery." Dally leaned far back from you for a moment to scan your available skin, eyes lingering on the way you winced everytime your stoumach moved in the slightest

• "Got me there the worst." You noticed his looks and chose to talk through your urge to hurl again. "Still feels like the winds been kicked out of me."

• "Soc's?" Is all he asks

• You shake your head. "No. Some other greasers. Picked a fight with them last week. I won and forgot all about it. Didn't realize that they were that ticked off about it."

• Dallas resisted the urge to scoff at you, and it must have shown on his face; if the way you laughed said anything

• "Glory Dallas Winston, can you judge me later when I'm not bleeding all across your buddies floor?"

• "Sure sure." He waved, eyebrows furrowing

• He finds himself wishing later that you had gone to Darry or even Steve for help with this stuff. He isn't the best at dressing wounds, even if he's had lots of practice on himself, and knows better than most that his bedside manner isn't exactly the best. When you're not wincing or dry heaving in a bout of pain, the two of you are bickering

• "Anymore tighter, and my fingers will be likely to fall off, Dal." You gripe at him as he wraps a bandage around your knuckles with an air of carelessness, even if he was feeling anything but that

• "Shut up."

• For the love of everything good don't ever do this to him again. Dallas has no idea how to be soft with people, and he isn't sure offering you a cigarette right after disinfecting your wounds is the best way to go about it

• You accept the unusual gift anyways, shaking your head with a smile as you do so

[chaotic-starlight24]

Darry having terrible anxiety after the events of the book

Pony coming home from a spontaneous walk around town to see the sunset to find Darry on the verge of tears, tearing a hand through his hair while Soda sits next to him. Soda trying to calm him down and Darry bursts into happy sobs once he sees Pony. Darry doesn't usually cry but this is always his breaking point.

Darry getting up in the middle of the night, convinced Pony must have left him. Or Soda was upset with him and didn't tell him and had just run off. Convinced he was a little too harsh on them and running to look into their bedroom. Just to be comforted by the sight of Pony and Soda, hugged together and snoring lightly.

Darry who can still be a bit harsh on Pony for forgetting too many homework assignments or crashing into stuff since he "always got his head in the clouds". But whenever Pony gets upset and runs to his room, Darry has to be held back by Soda. Darry insisting he just needs to make sure Pony hasn't squeezed through the window and run off.

Soda getting annoyed by something Darry keeps doing and Darry getting on to him. But a couple hours later Darry comes to the bedroom door frame and asks several times that Soda isn't upset with him. Until eventually Soda just hugs him while laughing, telling Darry to stop worrying so much. And Darry just ruffling his hair and saying ok, though his hand is still shaking and his thoughts are still racing.

Darry trying to be the relaxed older brother a teen Ponyboy needs. Pony telling him he's just taking a trip around town with some friends and Darry just flashing him a thumbs-up. Though everything in him is screaming to keep Pony home and safe.

Darry's stomach dropping to his feet every time there's a police siren nearby. Not like, panic attack inducing. But Darry's breathing quickening at the flashes of the red and blue lights.

Two-Bit mentioning his kid sister is running around town with some friends and Darry just about taking him by his jacket because "YOU'RE JUST LETTIN HER RUN AROUND LIKE THAT?!" but instead just asking calmly if she has a curfew.

He keeps his emotions inside pretty well. Keeping up his strong demeanor and locking his feelings away. But sometimes he wishes he could just drop to his knees and scream.

[spikedhe4rt]

can you please do a johnny smut with the reader giving johnny a hj and they keep edging him and he's really whiny and whimpers a lot? sorry if this is too specific! thank you

Sub!Johnny x Reader Smut

Word Count: 1221

I climbed on top on Johnny, situating myself. I kiss him, enveloping his soft and plump lips. He placed his hands tightly on my hips. "Fuck!" Johnny whimpered. I let out a giggle at his desperation. "Such a pathetic baby." I ran a teasing hand down his chest, my hand slipping under his shirt. He moaned as he felt my warm on his belly. "Please, take it off!" he squeaked out.

I smiled down at him, ready to give him a order. "Sit up. Now" He immediately sat up and followed my directions. I pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chest that was already covered in hickeys from yesterday. "Stand up for me!" He lifted himself from the bed slowly. "I love you so much, Johnny. You know that, right?"

He nodded with a whimper. I leaned into his warm body to kiss him deeply. My hands slit down to the button on his jeans, unfastening them quickly. Johnny groaned into the kiss, and brought a hand to my breasts. I pushed Johnny away from the kiss. "Take it off for me" He kicked his pants and underwear quickly, revealing his hard cock.

Johnny's cock was releasing beads of pre-cum by the second and rock hard. His cock was pulsing with need and reddish at the tip. It was begging for release and stimulation. He didn't know what was to come. Johnny the sat down on the bed, watching me as I was about to strip for him.

My hands slowly went down to the bottom of my tank top, lifting it teasingly over my head. My pink lacey bra with a pink bow in the middle to match was on display for him. Only for him. His dick twitched as he waited for me to lose my shorts next. "You're so pretty" he said to me. I smiled at him before pulling down my shorts, stepping out of them after.

I walked over to the bed and straddled Johnny, my clothed pussy rubbing against his naked cock slightly. I scooted back a little, adding more space between us. My lips found there way to his neck, peppering kisses on his neck. I bit down on the sensitive part on his neck then soothing it with my warm tongue. "Fuck. More!" he panted out.

I can already see the hickeys forming on his neck as he begged. I put my hand around his neck, pulling him towards me for a kiss. Our lips pushed together roughly. Johnnys tongue slipped into my mouth deepening the kiss. Fuck. I pulled away from him once again, eliciting a groan from him.

"Baby, please do something. Anything!" Johnny cried out. I nodded at him before grabbing his face, squishing his cheeks till his lips opened involuntarily. My other hand came up under his mouth, "Spit." I told him as I let his face go. Johnny leaned his head forward, his silky hair brushing his face to spit in my hand. My hand trailed down to his desperate cock.

The spit from my hand coated his cock that was already slightly wet from his precum. "Fuck. Feels so good, doll." I started to slowly stroke his dick at a slow, grueling pace. Johnny moaned loudly, his hips bucking up slightly into my hand. I placed a hand on his chest as I continued. "You look so handsome like this, Johnny." I whispered to him. He leaned into me, scanning over my features. "T-thank you"

The pace of my strokes picked up, making johnny cry out. "Please!" He breathed as he felt the change. I kept up my pace as he voice became more and more whiney and breathless. I knew that he would cum soon. I started to use both my hands to stroke his cock. One of my hands eventually came to add pressure to his leaky tip.

"Fuck! Im gonna cum. Please let me cum." I smirked at him, shaking my head. "No. Hold it for me!" He whimpered on what seemed like the verge of tears. "Oh fuck!" Johnny voice was raspy and soft as he begged for a release. I continued my work on his hard cock. "You sound so pretty, Johnny."

I could feel his overstimulated cock throb in my hold as I kept stroking. Sayings of " You like that don't you?" and "Not yet, baby." radiated as his "Feels so good." and "I wanna cum." filled the room. I brought a hand up to his mouth for more spit. He immediately filled my request, groaning as my hand returned to his cock. "Im getting close again! please!" I removed my hands completely from him completely. "You have to wait, baby."

He nodded, overstimulated, "Please give me your hands again!" I gave exactly what he needed. My left hand trailed down to his aching cock as my other went to his balls. I rubbed the velvety skin, increasing to his pleasure. Tears pricked his eyes as he knew he was getting edged for a third time. "Baby can I cum, please?" I shook my head with a smirk.

His whole face was tucked into my neck, tear streaming down. "Can I have kiss? Please!" I brought his head up and pressed a passionate kiss to his lips. Johnny put one of his hands on my hip and one on my throbbing clit. I got really worked up watching him beg. He began to rub slowly as I continued to stroke his overstimulated cock. "Fuck. You're such a good boy!"

My strokes began to get faster as I felt my own high building up. "Feels so good. Can I cum?" I started to kiss his neck before replying "Make me cum then I'll let you" Once Johnny heard my words, his fingers began to work faster. "You make me feel so good, Johnny. Shit!" My high was so close, about to tip over the edge. Johnny gave my puffy clit one last circle before my eye rolled back and I came all over his fingers.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out. I kissed Johnny, my tongue slipping into his mouth once again. I pulled away about to let him have his release. "Cum for me, Johnny." I told him with a nod, lip between my teeth. Johnny let out a loud moan before cumming hard on my hand. I brought my cum covered hand to my mouth, running my tongue over his release. After that, I brought him in for another kiss, making him taste himself slightly.

"Thank you, baby." he said as we began to lay down together. I looked at him in his eyes, lovingly, "I love you, Johnny." He kissed me softly "I love you more."

————————————————————————

A/N: Hi guys!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. My requests are always open!! I have a request chapter on this book and my dms are opens. I love you guys!!! <3

[chippedshake]

Yeah, this happens every day, I fall in love with a different face

No matter how many times Steve convinces himself that he knows all the sides there are to Sodapop Curtis, he always manages to be surprised.

Every day, a new side to him, a new face, something different about him is revealed, and every day Steve falls a little bit further.

And tonight, you'll be miles away

He's always let himself put off telling him. Because of the stories in the paper, because of Sandy. Because he's scared. Because there's always tomorrow and Soda will always be there.

Only Soda won't be there tomorrow. Tomorrow he'll be training god-knows-where, and soon enough he'll be halfway across the world, fighting for a country that's never done anything for him.

But I cannot quiet my mind

He still can't help but imagine Sodapop running off the train before it leaves the station, into Steve's arms to tell him that he loves him too.

He can't help but imagine the war being called off tomorrow and Sodapop coming home, even if he doesn't feel the same (he ignores the squeeze in his chest and the pure painful longing his body responds with).

He can't help but imagine thousands and thousands of scenarios where this isn't a now, in front of all your friends and strangers, or never situation where he already knows the answer is never. Even if it's completely delusional.

Somethin' different, somethin' new, spend my whole life in a moment with you

He blinks and they're eighteen and Steve's graduating and starting to work full-time at the DX. Sodapop's reintroducing him to Darry and Ponyboy as his boyfriend and maybe the little shit doesn't like it at first, but he gets over it.

He blinks and they're twenty one and opening their own gas station. Sodapop's grinning at him with that smile that's kept him breathless since the sixth grade, but now Steve knows that it's for him and only for him.

He blinks and they're thirty and they're the cute couple that run a store together and share kisses when they think no one's looking. They think back to the days before they got together and wonder how they were so stupid.

He blinks and they're forty and their backs hurt so they hire a couple of teens to help them out. One of them's magic with cars and for a second Steve could swear he's looking at his sixteen-year-old self (and the way he looks at the other boy makes Soda and him trade smiles and unspoken memories).

He blinks and they're fifty and he still can't process the fact that he gets to wake up and see Soda every day.

He blinks and they're sixty-five and retiring and they never got out of the neighbourhood but they're happy anyway.

He blinks and they're seventy and their grandchildren come over and he can see Sodapop in all of them.

He blinks and they're eighty-something, going quietly in their sleep together.

Just a glimpse of a future that's not meant to happen

He blinks and Sodapop is boarding the train, saying tearful goodbyes to his brothers, making them promise not to fight too much.

He blinks and he's seeing news articles about boys like him being beat to death over who they love.

He blinks and he's looking away as Soda kisses his latest girlfriend goodbye.

He blinks and Sodapop won't give him more than a brief man-hug and a teary smile with an "I'll miss you".

He blinks and a piece of his heart is being ripped out of his chest and boarding a train.

But for 30 seconds I'd like to imagine

So is it so wrong to imagine a world where they can be happy and together?

There are millions of people, and millions of lifetimes, and maybe in one of them, I found my voice and I told you I liked you, and then came for coffee

There is a world where Steve told Soda when he first realised it, towards the end of seventh grade, when girls started paying attention to Soda and Steve finally understood the gnawing bitterness in his chest.

There is a world where Steve told Soda when Soda broke up with his first girlfriend because he thought Steve liked her since he'd been icing him out since they started dating.

There is a world where Steve told Soda that time they were studying in Soda's room and he threw himself in Steve's lap and Steve started playing with his hair and Soda let out a little sigh that just about made him melt.

There is a world where Steve told Soda when Soda started crying because Ponyboy had just explained something he hadn't understood in class for him and he'd never felt more useless.

There is a world where Steve told Soda when the police came to knock on their door and for once it wasn’t to arrest anyone, but for something worse that made Steve realise how quickly it could all be over.

In five years we're married, a house and a family

Not all those worlds have a happy ending for them, but enough of them do. Growing up together, getting married – legally or illegally, Steve isn't picky –, adopting, getting to hold hands in public...

Then I snap out of it, realize I'm crazy

But this world doesn't. This world has a dead-end road town with people killed for loving differently. This world has a war that breaks families apart, making their own tragedy pale in comparison. This world has a coward playing Steve and an oblivious bastard playing Soda and no way out.

This world has a boy boarding a train to his death. A boy Steve won't ever see again. A boy Steve won't ever get to tell how he feels. A boy who Steve won't ever know if he feels the same.

And watch your train pass me by

[jaidens]

may I have a dark shaken espresso with Sodapop please?

Darling, I'd Wait For You —

pairing [s] : sodapop curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, breakups | this took so long, I couldn't think about anything to write abt i apologize!!

a/n [s] : requests are open! this is a part of my 350 followers celebration!

When your, trashy, ex-boyfriend decides to leave you for a one-hour hookup he was convinced would stay: it hurt you more than you imagined. Originally, your feelings were influenced with anger and hatred for seeing a random girl and your boyfriend thrusting into her. You ran, and ran until your legs were burning worse than the frosty air and tears that gathered in your eyes and down your cheeks.

Coincidentally, Sodapop had been driving home from work when he noticed a girl crying on the park benches. The snow that fell worried him, so he gathered his jacket and got out of his truck. “Hey! What are you doing out in this weather?” You ripped your head up at the voice, which you had recognized to be Soda’s, yelling at you. You felt completely broken and weak as Soda was in front of you.

“Y/N, hey, hey, what are you doing out here?” His voice is softer and slightly above a whisper, hoping to not scare you. He's only seen you like this so many times, and it scares him more than usual seeing the way you shake. His jacket wraps around you, and you can't help but jump into his arms. “C’mon. The truck is just over there.” He picks you up, hand going underneath your thighs as he brings you over to the truck.

You're numb as he places you inside the seat, and you buckle yourself in. The radio is playing Elvis quietly. Sodapop glances at you before beginning to drive on the road once more. The warm feeling of Sodapop radiates off as he hums and sings along to the gentle radio. Admittedly, throughout your relationship with your ex-boyfriend, there had been some stares and longing hugs you shared with Soda.

The truck stops at the Curtis house. The window blinds are shut, but lights are still turned on signifying not everyone had been asleep.

You walk to his bedroom, passing by a asleep Two-Bit and Dallas. You go into his bedroom and pull on his sweatshirt that was hanging on his door. It hangs loose, but it warms up your arms.

Moments later, Sodapop comes back with two cups of hot chocolate. You're in his thick Will Rodgers Highschool Football 1965 sweater, with a blanket pulled up to your legs. “Hey, tell me what happened if you're already.” Sodapop reassures and sets down the cups on Ponyboy’s small table that had books stacked up on each other.

“I caught him, Rich was— with another girl and said he was leaving me for her.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the tears bud up and your lip starts to quiver. Sodapop immediately sits up and pulls you into his arms and you cry into his well-built shoulder. Through the walls you tried to put up, they immediately fell down.

His hand runs slowly, patting a little bit. It shows that he's there for you, letting you know that you'll be alright. You pull away and Sodapop’s hands go to your face and he makes you look up at him. “You didn't deserve him at all. He was such a dick— you didn't deserve any of that to happen.” The words are foreign to your ears, but Sodapop’s care isn't.

“You are so worth it, and absolutely loved. Rich had no idea how much you love.” You laugh before hugging him tightly. You always felt better with Sodapop as if he was a drug, but he radiated sunshine and happiness. “Thank you, god just thank you.”

You lay in his arms, and he scratches the back of your neck. You slowly relax and stretch out your bones as you begin to get undeniably tired. “Stay here tonight. I'll bring you home in the morning.”

[only-lonely-star]

Your recent fic of the Soda mishap is my new fav fic of the outsiders! It was so funny with just the right amount of angst!

Could I request a fic with a sister reader who is the youngest curtis and develops separation anxiety with Soda after the two of them were in a little fender bender? Neither were hurt but it brought up memories of their parents dying and she can't shake off the thought that Soda not being in her eyesight means he's gone too? She refuses to sleep in her own room goes with him to work (it's summer holidays so school isn't a factor) and anytime he showers she stands outsode the bathroom door asking if he's okay periodically. Just a big emotional breakdown if she happens to get separated from him? I hope that makes sense!

Thanks you!

☁︎ The Accident ☁︎

~ Sodapop Curtis ~

Warnings - Minor car accident, mentions of death, separation anxiety

Summary - You couldn’t imagine losing Sodapop.

Author’s Note - THIS REQUEST WAS MWAH!! CHEF’S KISS! 😽 I’m very proud of this one. It took me longer to write since I got a bit carried away, so I apologize for the long wait. I couldn't bring myself to make the ending sad, so I hope you all like how I closed the story. Thank you so much for requesting, enjoy it my loves !!

Word Count - 3.3k.

»——•——« »——•——« »——•——« »——•——«

You kicked back, finally able to rest after a long morning spent dipping in the lake with your older brother, Sodapop. It was summer break, so what better way to spend the day than being under the sun - swimming and shoving him around in the cool, crisp water? Your oldest brother, Darrel, still had work, even over the summer. Your third oldest brother, Ponyboy, decided he'd rather spend some time with his friends. Being the empath he is, Sodapop decided to drive you down to the lake to ensure you didn't feel left out. He loved spending quality time with you either way - he quite enjoyed your company.

Feet on the dashboard, you turned up the radio and sang along. You could practically feel the funky music thumping in your chest. The bass could be heard a mile away, causing Sodapop to let out a chuckle. "Havin' fun?" he asked, his eyes drifting to see you smile bigger than he ever had since the accident.

You nodded vigorously, a few stray droplets of water that remained on the ends of your hair flying onto Sodapop, dampening his skin. "Of course!" you beamed, removing your feet off the dashboard as you leaned back into your seat.

He gave a head nod of accomplishment at that. Sodapop was glad to have taken you out for a fun time for once. He would have to return to the DX again tomorrow morning, the cycle repeating all over again. "Glad we went swimmin', we could go next weekend or something too y'know..." he suggested, a grin on his lips not faltering once as he offered another trip down to the lake.

You gasped, already looking forward to it. "Really? Like - you'll actually take me again?" you asked, needing the last bit of reassurance before you could truly accept the offer.

He nodded once more, stopping at a red light to gently swat your shoulder with his knuckles. "'Course I'll take you again."

He earned another grin from you at that, proud of himself once more. Sodapop's eyes darted for the rearview mirror, noticing a red Pontiac Firebird riding up on the back of their car. "Well damn, you gonna slow down?" he asked aloud, a slight bit of annoyance in his voice. The car must have been going at least fifteen miles per hour right at the red light. You hadn't paid much attention to it until you noticed Sodapop's eyes go wide. The 'deer in headlights' gaze is the only right way you could describe it. Sodapop cursed under his breath once more, holding his hand out to press against your chest. The sound of screeching breaks against the road scared the both of you as you jerked forward. Sodapop's arm prevented you from moving around that much, but there was still an impact. You slowly opened your eyes, recovering from a wince you hadn't even realized was in effect.

"The fuck - ?!" he hollered, rolling down the window before slamming his hand onto the horn and holding it there to express his anger. Road rage was one thing, but this was totally different. Sodapop rarely acted out on his anger, let alone follow through with it and stick his hand out of the window just to flip him off.

You sat there, breath hitched in your throat as you momentarily dissociated whilst staring at the dashboard.

This was all too familiar for you. ‘The Accident’ is what still haunts the four of you to this day. Having both of your parents wind up in an auto wreck sure wasn’t on your bucket list at all.

It was the sound of the car nearly crashing that frightened you. The fact you could have obtained the same fate as your parents was such a big fear you’d been attempting to hide since the accident. What you dreaded the most was losing your brothers. Put in a life or death situation - you’d hand over your life in an instant if it would ensure your siblings would be safe.

It wasn’t until you realized you and Sodapop were pulled over with that same Pontiac behind you. Slowly returning to reality, the bearded man with salt and pepper-colored hair had his arms resting on the now rolled-down window. “She alright?” he asked, his eyes fixated on you. Your dazed expression had been permanently marked onto your face.

Sodapop scanned your face for any other emotion, but couldn't seem to detect any. He quickly turned back to the man, brushing him off. “She’s a little spooked, she’ll be alright.”

He gave a slight shrug and waved the both of you off. Sodapop immediately placed a hand on your shoulder and shook your upper half. “Gave me some cash to fix the damage…it ain’t too bad, the back is a little dented and some paint got scratched off - but that’s about it,” he explained in an attempt to snap you back to reality.

Your eyes scanned the road, still busy with vehicles buzzing around everywhere you look. Listening was easy, but trying to comprehend his words while your mind raced with panic was a difficult task.

“You sure look out of it,” he commented, moving the gearshift to head home. There was an underlying tone of concern you could easily hear in his voice.

Squirming around in your seat, you found a better position where you could see the road ahead, clear as day. Feeling paranoid was an understatement. “No, no, I’m fine,” you assured him, all the confidence you could muster coming into play. You couldn’t stand the thought of worrying him even further with your newfound state of shock.

The car turned at an intersection, a red Corvette coming at you from the left side. It was as if your body just knew what to do - curling up into a ball as your eyes closed shut. The car isn’t going to hit you. This is how normal cars drive. You weren’t hurt. Stop.

“Why are you all jumpy with me? You ain’t in any danger,” Sodapop piped up, noticing your flinch at the sight of the Corvette. “Calm down a bit, will ya?” he teased light-heartedly, unaware of the true conflict inside your mind.

“Sorry…” you mumbled in response, pushing down any remaining feelings of apprehension. “That car, Soda -…” the crack in your voice said it all, “Just scared me a bit, I guess I just don't want you to… to end up like Mom and Dad.”

The car became eerily silent, the only noise being the zooming of cars outside. The accident was a touchy subject for both of you - Darrel and Ponyboy as well. Just talking about it always darkened the mood.

“No. You’re safe, I ain’t ever gonna let anything like that happen to you,” he assured you, his voice thick with tension. He seemed to grasp onto the wheel tighter as he pulled over just outside your home. “You hear me? It ain’t happening.”

For once, he was stern. Sodapop was never stern nor agitated with you, he was always bubbly and grinning. You knew the mention of your deceased mother and father had triggered it. The accident may have been months ago, but the damage was nowhere near repaired.

“I hear you,” you mumbled shamefully, opening the car door and shutting it behind you swiftly. You stood with your hand rubbing onto your arm. The body language represented was one of dread and concern, but somehow relief. Relief that Sodapop was still standing before you - even if he was completing a mundane task.

Sodapop shut the car door as he hauled the bag of wet bathing suits through the gate and towards the front door. You followed, not once letting him out of your sight. You watched as he set the bag near the bathroom door. “Darry and Pony ain’t home yet, better shower before they come back,” he suggested, offering you first dibs with the shower.

You shook your head and stood underneath his arm, seeking some bit of comfort. “No, uh - I’ll do it later,” the words nervously fell from your tongue.

Sodapop ruffled his fingers through your hair, grinning like always. At least something felt normal. “Alright then, shower after me.”

With that, Sodapop waltzed inside the tiled room, unraveling an off-white and awfully tattered towel. Tossing it on the counter, he placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed it closed. You respected the privacy of course, but the pang of paranoia kicked in once more.

“Soda…?” you called out, the sound only a hoarse whisper. No reply.

It was strangely quiet on the other end of the door. No water could be heard running, no background noise of shifting clothes around, nothing. Your hand balled into a fist, the sound of three knocks beckoning him. “Soda, you okay?”

“Yeah…?” Sodapop responded with a confused tone, leaving the boy in deep confusion. “Are you?” he stifled a laugh at the question. He’d been gone a mere few seconds!

“I’m fine,” your voice quivered, exhaling deeply as you slid down the wall. You rested your arms around your knees and sat on the brown wooden flooring. You could practically feel the sadness washing over you. The corners of your lips seemed to subtly droop, your expression now a worried frown. A warm tear escaped from your left eye, leaving you to wonder why you were crying in the first place.

That car could’ve killed you. It could’ve killed Sodapop too - oh god, anyone but him. You couldn’t lose him. First your parents and now your brother - ?”

Wiping the stray tear away, you stood back to your feet and leaned your ear against the door, trying to make out any heavy breathing. The panic set in once more when the running water was the only sound coming from the other end of the door. “Soda, are you alright?”

The knob had been twisted, causing less water to flow from the shower head. “I’m okay - now what in the hell is up with you?” Sodapop demanded as his words echoed through your mind.

Sodapop beginning to feel a bit pestered by you didn’t seem to be an issue, you were at least grateful to have a response. “Nothing…sorry,” you spoke up, giving it a rest for the time being.

The eerie silence only led to the intrusive thoughts of Sodapop no longer being alive. This was torture at its finest. The shower seemed to drag on longer than you would’ve liked.

—————————————————————————

As the day came to a quiet evening, Sodapop had already climbed into bed for the night. Darrel could be found in the kitchen with Ponyboy baking a chocolate cake for tomorrow’s usual breakfast. Clutching your pillow and stuffed bear you’d had since childhood by your side, you crept inside his darkened room. He was lying on his front side, face buried in his pillow. A smile adorned your face once you saw him sleeping peacefully underneath the warm bedding. You tip-toed for Ponyboy’s spot in bed and lifted the corner of the sheets to slide in underneath them. Sodapop stirred and scooted further back toward his side of the bed. His eyes could make out your figure, halfway crawled into bed. “What’re you doin’?”

You were quick to reply, fully laying on your back now that he was awake. “I just wanted to sleep in here tonight…” you shrugged, the stuffed teddy a source of comfort against your chest.

Normally Sodapop would’ve urged it's best for you to not upset Ponyboy by taking his spot in bed. He felt tremendously guilty for earlier’s mention of the accident, it only made him want to ease your concern for his wellbeing. Sodapop could sense the constant fear nagging at you that if he wasn’t with you, he was gone as well. He wasn’t stupid - he was well aware. “Scoot over so there’s room for three,” he sighed softly before pulling your arm closer.

You could feel his lips curled into a loving grin against your hair. It was getting late, so it was a given that Ponyboy would walk in any moment now and settle down for the night. Your back against Sodapop’s chest provided a warm feeling inside. His arm was almost trapping you beside him from how tightly the embrace was. Feeling his heartbeat thumping against your back eased any nervousness that still lingered in your mind.

Sure enough, the hallway lights could be heard flicking off with a quick hit to the switch. A faint ‘goodnight’ was barely audible through the closed wooden door. Ponyboy twisted the knob and saw an unfamiliar shadow beside Sodapop in bed. He groaned once the realization swept over his head that it was you. “Alright, outta my bed,” he commanded with a rather sassy eye roll.

The sheets were flung off of your body as Ponyboy expectantly waited for you to leave. Sodapop squeezed you tighter against himself. “Pony, let her stay.”

Ponyboy scoffed and furrowed his brows in frustration. “Stay - ?! This is our bed, she has her own!”

Sodapop stifled a groan of his own, his hand extending to toss the bedding back over your body. “You’ve got room, either sleep with us or take her bed. It’s just for tonight...”

Ponyboy took one last glance at the two of you before plopping himself down in a huff. “You don’t even need to be here, it ain’t your bed,” he grumbled as he fiddled with the blanket that had been kicked to his side.

You felt guilty enough as is, but now the guilt had grown stronger. You exhaled softly and let your eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry,” is all you could manage to say in response before it turned to a whole meltdown on why you needed to stay close to Sodapop.

Ponyboy’s anger subsided to a calm and aloof demeanor. He was most likely too tired to even argue it anymore.

“I just can’t go back to my room…not when Soda’s all the way in here,” you explained, your voice kept at a quiet whisper. No response from either of them. That sickening feeling of loss had begun to eat you alive yet again now that you lay awake, speaking to your unresponsive brothers.

———————————————————————————

Morning came once again, except this time you weren’t woken up to the bird’s singing outside, or one of your brothers pouncing over your resting body. It was as if your mind already knew that Sodapop had left. Ponyboy too, it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning when the lonely feeling sank back in. You sighed and propped yourself up onto the pillows, using your forearms for support.

A muffled sound escaped your lips, immediately calling for Sodapop. Obviously, he couldn’t hear you behind a closed door. You sprung out of bed, the stuffed bear falling to the floor along with you. With a swift twist of the doorknob, you sprinted down the hallway to catch sight of Ponyboy in the kitchen.

“Soda - Soda - where’s Soda?” you asked frantically, no sign of your two eldest brothers being around.

Ponyboy bit into a mouthful of chocolate cake, not caring to finish chewing before speaking, “Leavin’ for work, why?”

You shook your head without another word and scrambled for the front door, pajamas and all. You saw Sodapop buckling in beside Darrel as he slipped on a shirt. You sprinted towards the car, shouting and pleading for them to wait.

“Soda, Darry!” you called out, your hand smacking the side of the car to stop the vehicle. Darrel looked beyond frustrated to see you causing such a scene. Sodapop was filled with great concern, even as the adrenaline rushing throughout your body masked your fear. He gave a head tilt to signal Darrel to let him handle this.

“I’m here,” he replied in an assertive tone, his empathic eyes feeling every emotion you’ve felt since yesterday’s accident. He understood you better than anyone. Reaching a hand out to pull you closer, his gentle grasp latched onto your wrist. He leaned closer to you and spoke lowly, “You alright, kid? You’re scarin’ us, y’know.”

You nodded. In all honesty, you were okay now that you’d seen Sodapop. It felt like every second spent away from him was hell on earth. He could be hurt, laying out in the street somewhere - dead.

“I’m coming with you,” you insisted, tugging on the backseat door behind Sodapop. It didn’t open. Instead, Darrel’s husky voice backed you away from the handle.

“Coming with us -? No kids allowed, be realistic for once.” Darrel gave you a stern warning that if you didn’t head back indoors then you would never hear the end of it.

Sodapop exhaled sharply and glanced between you both, trying to handle the situation. He locked eyes on you, giving you the same empathic look as before. “Just…” he gave Darrel a wince before facing you again, “You got five minutes to get ready and then we're leaving.”

Your smile reappeared yet again, immediately racing back up the stairs leading to the front door. The sound of your brothers’ voices grew louder even as the distance between you and the car grew. A glimpse of the two arguing caused a bitter pang in your heart. Pushing the feeling away, you darted for the bathroom.

———————————————————————————

“She can stay with me. The DX ain’t in a bad area, she’ll be fine…” Sodapop spoke softly to Darrel, trying to reason as to why you should come along to work with them.

You settled yourself in the vehicle as it began to propel forward. The tension of the previous argument still lingered, but at least Darrel kept quiet as soon as you were in a close enough radius to hear the bickering. He wouldn’t be caught dead speaking of you like that while you were listening.

———————————————————————————

Taking Sodapop’s hand, he led you inside of the gas station in which he worked. You’d been here countless times before, bumming around with your brother’s friends as they smoked and attempted to sweet-talk any girl that passed. Sodapop and Steve never did, they would be fired after receiving complaints for doing such activities. Sodapop would always bend the rules, slipping a few snacks and whatnot into his pocket before leaving work. The DX brought back fond memories even as you stepped inside the front door, a small bell ringing overhead, indicating your entry.

“Now, I ain’t supposed to have company,” Sodapop spoke quietly, holding onto your shoulder and bending down a bit to be eye level with you, “But I couldn’t say no, I just couldn’t.”

Your eyes stung from the tears that dared to form during such a heartfelt moment. Sodapop was aware?

“Soda, I can’t lose you too,” your voice quivered as you quickly closed the distance between one another. Your arms wrapped around his neck, Sodapop immediately reciprocated the hug.

“I know, I know…” he replied as he softly stroked the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair in a soothing motion. “You ain’t losin’ me anytime soon, I can promise you that.”

You willingly let the tears fall from your cheeks, landing on Sodapop’s shoulder which dampened the fabric quite a lot. He didn’t mind at all, in fact - he was glad you were no longer bottling yourself up. You squeezed him tighter, wishing the hug could ensure you’d never lose him. “I love you,” you spat out in a desperate cry.

Sodapop nodded along, the soothing motion of his hand still in effect. “I love you too y’know, a lot,” he said with a delicate tone, one he only used with you. You were his little sister and he would never let anything separate the two of you.

You just don’t stop living because you lose somebody.

It was as if the hug was the one thing you needed - the one thing that could ease your pain. Learning to cope with the death of your parents was by far the most difficult task you’d faced. Memories of the accident only strengthened your love for your brothers, clinging onto them as if you’d lose them next. Living in constant fear, dreading any separation was no healthy way to cope. The only way to cure the feeling of this overwhelming pain was to cherish your brothers like never before. And that’s exactly what you did.

[thewulf]

Troublemaker || Dallas "Dally" Winston

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

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

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

Word Count: 5.3k +

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

1. Clowns at the Drive-In:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. A Brush with the Law:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. Escaping a Sticky Situation:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instantly, Dally saw red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Unexpected Thank You:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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