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sweet-child · 10 months

Note

dally x an introverted reader who’s actually like super energetic and loud when they’re alone????

introvert

a typically reserved or quiet person who tends to be introspective and enjoys spending time alone

something (such as the retractile proboscis of some worms) that is or can be drawn in especially by invagination

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In which we see Dallas with an introverted partner

Pairing - Dallas Winston x Introverted!GN!Reader

Word Count - 851

A/n - I feel like I didn't do it justice, but I don't think I could have done it any better. I hope you enjoy it though, Anon!

"Dig in!"

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Buck liked to throw parties. Alot. He liked to blow the money he won at rodeos on his parties, booze, and cancer sticks. Everyone knows about Buck's parties and how wild they can get. The later into the evening, the more people would show. Dallas Winston partied on occasions, but, normally, only at Buck’s or another greaser hang out. He and Buck were friends, not as close as he was to the Curtis gang though. When Dallas had first moved to Tulsa, when the boy was about 12, he tried stealing from the lanky cowboy by pickpocketing. Buck grabbed Dal’s wrist as the younger boy tried to reach his hand into the older’s pocket. One look at Dallas, and Buck quickly took the young boy under his wing. Taught him how to ride horses and to barrel race. They were the type of friends that you aren’t close to, but you still defend and look out for each other.

When Dallas and Y/n first met (at another one of Buck’s parties), the latter was quiet, and observed dancing and conversations. Dallas noticed them in the corner, and kept glancing at them through the night. When they were dragged away from the corner by their mutual friend to play pool, that's when Dal decided to start a conversation with them. Buck and Y/n were playing pool together at first, with the tall, brown-eyed greaser trying to get to know them, but Buck got dragged away and Dallas took his place playing pool.

“Are you normally this quiet?” He asked, somewhat judgmentally, taking a shot at a solid and missing. “Just introverted.” The shorter one replied, taking a shot at a stripe and getting it in the cup. From that moment on, they seemed to never be apart. It was like a dog with his owner. A very vicious dog with his very observant owner.

Tonight was another one of Buck’s parties with loud music, smoking, drinking, dancing, and even crowded. Y/n was dragged to the party by their boyfriend, Dallas, after a good night at the rodeo. Earlier that night, Dal had made a personal record for finishing at 13.67 seconds. In support of the brown-haired teen, you went with no complaints. But that was an hour ago. Now, the taller boy was talking to one of his buddies, Tim Shepard, while the h/c-haired teen was in the corner, a drink in hand, while observing the partiers. It wasn’t their social scene. They preferred to be with their friends, having fun. Just even being there at the party was slowly draining their social battery. However, being at the party had some perks; Free food, free drinks, free entertainment when people got into fights.

Dallas broke away from the eldest Shepard, ending their conversation, and walked over to his partner. “Y’look bored,” He stated as he leaned against the wall. “Of course I'm bored,” Y/n rolled their eyes, “Can we go, Dal?”

Dallas was silent for a moment but let out a huff of air. “Fine,” He leaned off the wall “Lets go.” Wrapping an arm around their neck, they left Buck’s and started to walk down the dimly lit sidewalks. The two walked in peaceful silence with only the gentle wind or cars driving down the street breaking it. Soon enough, the two were in Y/n’s room. Dallas plopped onto their bed, with a squeak of the springs, sprawling out. His e/c-eyed partner crawled on top of him, laying on his chest.

“You smell good,” They complimented with a smile. “You sniff me?” “It's hard not to when I'm laying on your chest.” Dallas let out a small, gruff chuckle. “Oh! That reminds me,” Y/n sat up and crawled off his chest and out of the bed “I'm trying out new scents. What do you think smells better?” They asked, as they pulled out two perfume bottles and spritzed them to where their boyfriend could smell. “The first one is lavender and cotton, but the second one is rose with a hint of vanilla. I like both, but I personally like the second one more. I want your opinion because I want my boyfriend to think I smell good. What do you think?” They rambled

Dallas sat up slightly with his head leaning against the headboard before smelling both. “The second one,” The brown-haired boy confirmed as Y/n nodded, and put them both on their makeup stand before getting back on the bed and on Dallas’ chest. “Hey Dal?” Dallas looked down at his partner on his chest, and with his rough hand, he brushed a piece of hair out of their face. “Yes, Doll?” “Can we go see a movie at the drive-in? Or do something together? Just me ‘nd you?”

Dallas, with a grin on his face, shook his head and adjusted himself to where his back was against the headboard before asking “Why don't you talk this much at parties?”

Y/n, who sat up as well, looked up at their boyfriend, a smile on their face. “Just introverted.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #buck merrill

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arieshasbrainrot57 · 2 years

Text

Cold, ice cold

I saw a bit of fanart on instagram by @wasppancake57 and so i wrote a little something based on that bc i liked the idea behind it

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Warnings: canonical character death, angst, grief, blood, a lot of blood actually

“He hadn’t moved ever since that night. He didn’t think he could. All he could think about was all that blood. Dally’s blood”

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He hadn’t moved since the late hours of the night before. He didn’t think he could. It was like all his limbs had locked up, frozen over by the cold night air. The sun had risen a few hours ago but he’d barely registered it.

Soda had come to check on him once or twice. He didn’t know how many times it had been. He’d stopped answering after the first time. He felt like he’d be sick if he tried to speak. So he didn’t. He didn’t even move. He stayed right where he was, sitting in one corner of the kitchen, just staring at the wall. For the first time in his life, thoughts weren’t racing through his head a million at a time. There was only one thought in his head, one that was so loud and painful that he just wanted to rip it out with his bare hands.

Dally was dead. Johnnycake was too.

Both of them were gone, just like that.

There hadn’t been any fanfare, no big dramatic send off. They were just gone, both of them, in one night.

Maybe that was why it was so hard to come to terms with. They were just gone. Just like that. So suddenly and so abruptly. There’d been no time for getting used to the idea. One minute they were there and the next they weren’t. And nothing had changed, not on a big, grand scale. The sun had still risen the next day, the birds had still sang. Cars were still rumbling by outside and the faint laughter of kids walking to school still rang through the air. It seemed like no one else in the world knew that Dallas Winston and Johnny Cade were dead.

He hadn’t been able to believe it when Ponyboy had told them that Johnny was dead, stumbling through the front door with hollow eyes, hunched in on himself, as if he was about to crumble and collapse on the spot. None of them had had much time to process that though. Soon enough they were off again, after hearing that Dally was in some kind of trouble. He hadn’t been surprised. Of course he’d do that, of course he’d go and get himself into some kind of mess, instead of coming home and just dealing with his feelings.

He hadn’t expected him to end up dead too. He’d thought that they’d just drag him home, bickering and grumbling. Once they were home, they could figure things out, deal with things. They couldn’t exactly do any of that now, after he’d just bled out in the street.

Everyone else had dealt with it, of course, once they’d stumbled back home, barely keeping it together. Hardly anyone had spoken since they’d gotten back. Ponyboy was still passed out in his room. Darry and Soda had barely left his side, except for Soda, who would occasionally trail through, checking on everyone. Everyone being just him and Steve at this point. He hated that. The house felt so empty now. It was like he could feel their absence in the air, like even the house knew that something wasn’t right.

The sound of the front door slamming rattled the silent house for a moment. Two-Bit didn’t budge. Whoever it was wouldn’t want to talk to him. He could hardly ever take anything seriously. They didn’t need an explanation from him. Even if he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to laugh or joke again for a very long time. The thought of it felt wrong, almost criminal. How could he even think of joking at a time like this?

“Hey, where’s everybody? This place is like a ghost town.” the voice of Tim Shephard called jokingly.

There wasn’t an answer, just the sound of hurried footsteps. Steve came storming into the kitchen, wrenching the fridge door open, yanking out a can of beer and slamming the door shut with such force that Two-Bit felt it rattle from his place on the floor, over on the other side of the room.

“What’s your problem?” Tim continued, following Steve into the kitchen. “And what’s his problem? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Matthews this quiet.”

“Leave him alone Tim.” Steve grumbled, almost threateningly.

“Where’s the other three? Isn’t this their house?” he continued curiously.

“Pony’s sick. They’re keeping an eye on him.” Steve replied, his tone clipped, brewing with anger.

“Damn, poor kid. Anyway, I just swung by because I was looking for Dal. Where is he anyways? Doesn’t he always stay over here after a rumble?”

Those words froze both of them in place. Two-Bit hadn’t moved for hours but he felt all his muscles tense. He didn’t want someone to say it. He didn’t want to hear it out loud. That would make it all the more real. If someone said it, that would make it true. He couldn’t bear it.

“He’s not here.” Steve replied quietly, his words barely getting choked out.

“Is he over at Buck’s or-”

“He’s dead! He’s not anywhere, except maybe for some morgue somewhere! He’s dead, he’s just gone! So…just stop fucking asking.” Steve burst out, cutting him off, his words haggard and broken, burning with anger and stinging with grief.

Pretty much instantly, Two-Bit buckled forward, clapping one hand over his mouth, struggling to keep himself from throwing up. He felt like he’d been socked in the gut and he could feel his eyes starting to burn. He hadn’t cried much since the night before. He’d wanted to, he’d felt guilty that he hadn’t, but he just hadn’t been able to. He’d felt so cold, so empty, so shocked by it all that he couldn’t do anything. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to scream for what they’d all lost, for what he’d lost, for the unfairness of it all, that they’d lost two of their best friends in one night. All he’d been able to do was sit there though, staring into space, feeling colder than ever, as if he was still sitting out there in the middle of that road.

He sunk forward, pressing his head against the kitchen floor, hot tears beginning to spill over. He tried to sniffle them back, tried to keep his cool but he just couldn’t. Now that the dam had burst, he couldn’t stop it.

He hadn’t been there to see Johnny die, so he could play it off, pretend that he was fine, that he’d be home any day now, even if he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t true. He couldn’t do the same for Dallas. He’d seen him die. They all had. He’d watched that dark pool of blood creep across the asphalt. He’d watched his chest rise and fall unsteadily, blood bubbling from his lips, before he eventually just went still, slumping onto the chilled cement, eyes half open and glassy.

He’d tried to pretend that he was still alive, just for a moment. He’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. He’d begged and pleaded, the only tears he’d cried that night rolling down his cheeks, barely noticed. All his attention was on Dallas, his Dallas. He’d loved him for years, before he’d told him how he felt and then for years more, after he’d told him. He thought he’d be able to love him for more years to come, as they both got older, maybe moved, maybe changed. Now they didn’t have those years. He’d grow, he’d change, he’d do all those things but Dallas never would. He’d stay seventeen forever.

Even when the police had told them to back up, to get away so they could deal with the bloody scene in the middle of the street, he’d refused to move. He hadn’t been able to say a thing in response. His only words had been for Dallas, muttered pleas and promises that everything would be fine, choking out how much he loved him and how much he wanted him to stay alive. He’d prayed to anything that might be out there, imploring him just to wake up, to open his eyes, to just look at him, anything!

He hadn’t said a word, hadn’t moved a muscle. He’d just laid there, deathly still and silent.

Eventually he’d had to leave him, no matter how much he wanted to stay, muttering incoherent pleas through a mess of tears. Steve had come up behind him, quietly telling him that they needed to get out of there, otherwise there’d be trouble. He hadn’t moved, he’d just told him to go, that he wasn’t going to leave someone he loved so much alone in the street, soaked in their own blood. Steve hadn’t answered, he’d just wrapped his arms around his middle and tugged him back, ignoring his furious fighting and protesting.

He’d managed to break free surprisingly, scrambling back to the other boy’s side. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He knew that it would be smart to leave but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to leave him alone like this.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, taking in Darry and Soda, who were fussing over an unconscious Ponyboy, who looked almost as bad as Dallas did. They needed to get him home. They’d need him too. If he refused to come with them, they’d worry. They didn’t need anymore of that. So he’d struggled forward, pulling Dallas into his arms and pressed one last kiss against his lips. He hadn’t cared who saw. He still didn’t. Even when one of the police officers had snapped at him to move on, with violent disgust in his voice, he’d just shot him a fierce glare and snarled at them that this was their fault, before limping off after the others. He’d wanted to say more. There was so much he could have said. He supposed what he had said was enough though. They’d taken him away. They’d killed him and now they had the gall to talk to him like he was the problem. He wouldn’t take that. No way in hell.

“Was he…Was he that kid that got in that shoot out last night? I heard about it but I never thought…” Tim Shephard eventually said, unable to finish his sentence.

“That was him.” Steve replied quietly, most of the fire seeming to have drained out of him.

“What the hell was he thinking, getting into that kind of trouble? I always thought he was a selfish idiot but I never thought-”

“Shut up.”

Everyone was shocked when Two-Bit spoke, for the first time since the night before. His voice was low and ragged, as if he was speaking through a handful of glass shards. It felt like there were glass shards in his stomach as he spoke, volatile rage burning in Tim’s direction.

“What?” he shot back incredulously.

“I said, shut up. You don’t know shit about any of this. So don’t you talk about him like that. Don’t you dare.” he growled lowly, more tears sliding silently down his cheeks.

He half expected him to hit him. He didn’t care. He could hurt him if he wanted. He’d already been hurt enough. He didn’t think it could get much worse.

He had no idea what had happened that night, not like they did. They all knew the real reason why Dallas had gone out that night, after he’d watched Johnny die. None of them had said it out loud but they all knew well enough. He hadn’t been able to take it. They’d always known he wasn’t the most stable person out there, Two-Bit more than any of them. They’d just misjudged how bad it really was. Maybe they should have asked more questions, checked up on him more. Maybe he should’ve talked to him about that kind of stuff more often. Maybe if he’d been there for him more he’d be there beside him, instead of rotting somewhere.

Two-Bit felt more tears spill over and he fought the unconscious urge to curl in on himself as his stomach twisted into painful knots. They didn’t even know where he was, for God’s sake. They had no idea where they’d taken him after that night.

Surprisingly, Tim didn’t hit him. He just stood there in silence for a moment, shaking from head to toe, before he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard that it bounced back open again.

“...Do you want me to stay or…?” Steve offered hesitantly after a moment.

“You can stay. I’d rather…I’d rather not be alone right now.” he replied quietly, wiping away some of his tears with one hand.

Steve nodded, putting down the can and moving over to where he was, sitting down beside him. He reached over and gently patted his back, not saying a word. He sank into the touch, more violent tears bursting free. This time he let them out and he let himself cry, let himself make as much noise as he needed. Steve might have joined him at some point, crying quietly beside him but he couldn’t be sure. All he seemed able to do was cry. He cried for everyone else, even for Tim, who would no doubt have to be the one to explain to Buck what had happened. He cried for Ponyboy, who would wake up and get better without his best friends. He cried for all of them, who’d lost people so important to them. He cried for Dally and Johnny too, who would never get to grow and live the rest of their lives. He would never get to see them again and that only made him cry all the more. He’d never see Johnny’s rare smile that only came around occasionally, but when it did he never wanted it to go away. He hardly ever smiled and he deserved to be happier. Now he never would be. He wouldn’t even ever smile again. He would never laugh at one of his stupid jokes again. He’d never have the chance to be happier. He’d never have the chance to get away from his stupid parents.

The thought that the night before was the last time he’d ever get to kiss and hold Dallas made him sick. He struggled not to throw up all over again, balling his hands into fists and letting out a few more strangled sobs. The last time he’d gotten the chance to do that had been at the hospital, when he and Pony had stopped by to visit both him and Johnny. He should have made it better somehow, should have told him how much he loved him. He didn’t want him to die not knowing that. He’d just had no idea, no idea that that was the last chance he’d have to tell him that.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think…I think I’m gonna go. Home, I mean. I think that’s what I need right about now.”

“Oh, uh, alright. Take care of yourself then. And if you need anything you know where we are. We’re looking out for you man.”

“I know. Thanks. I’ll…I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself too. Keep an eye on Soda and Darry. We can’t let them overwork themselves just because of everything that’s happened.”

“That’s true. I’ll keep an eye on them while you’re gone. I guess I’ll…see you when I see you.”

“Me too.”

He stumbled to his feet, hardly able to hold himself up. He managed to though, he had no idea how and he started on his way out the door, down the familiar path to his house. He frantically wiped at his face as he walked, trying to clear up the mess of tears that it had become. He was sure he hadn’t cried himself out yet. There was plenty more where that came from but he wouldn’t be caught dead crying around just some strangers on the street. He’d get the rest of it out once he was home, where it was safe. Things would feel at least halfway right once he was home, even if he was sure that nothing would ever feel right again. It’d be a start.

One foot caught on a rock as he thought about the one time he’d broken down like this in front of the others, on father’s day, when he’d been drunker than usual. They’d all tried their best to help him out but his memory was drawn more towards later on, when Johnny had followed him outside and told him that everything was gonna be OK, before giving him the biggest hug he’d had in a long time. Right about now that was all he wanted. Knowing that he wouldn’t get it and would never get it again made his chest ache.

#fanfiction #theoutsiders #two bit mathews #dallaswinston #steverandle #darrycurtis #sodapopcurtis #ponyboycurtis #johnnycade #tim shepard #buck merril #angst #mild hurt/comfort #grief #dalbit #dallasxtwobit

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