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#dally winston x reader
quizzicalwriter · 6 months
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dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time
Sweet Thing
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Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader
Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.
Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.
A/N: Thank you for the request!
Word Count: 2.8k (I got carried away.)
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You’d always been Dallas’s favorite preoccupation, distracting him from everything else in life. The sweet thing he carted around whenever he hung around with the boys or found himself in the drunken den that was Buck’s on a Saturday night. You’d be there, propped on his lap with his arms wrapped securely around your waist.
Not that you didn’t have anything to say besides sitting there, hell, the guys loved you. You could hold your own when it came to their wit and it made you a worthy companion for Dallas in their eyes, not to mention your inexplicable ability to put up with his shit when nobody else had before - or seemingly nobody else had been given the chance.
Normally Dallas would’ve gone for girls at the drive-in, greaser girls, or any woman he could get his hands on or who could handle his banter for longer than a minute without giving him the back of their hand. You weren’t one of them, and frankly, that terrified Dallas. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away, push you away in hopes that he’d save himself the pain of heartbreak later on he’d convinced himself he’d suffer. But he always stopped himself whenever you found yourself in his arms, gazing up at him with your doe-like eyes.
It was a difficult thing, Dallas being intimate. He was born and raised in a constant battle for survival, not showing love or producing it, but you made it easy. The longer you two had been together the longer he found himself wanting to keep you close, protect you from dangers he seemed to see everywhere. The worries you once had about him leaving eventually faded, the look in his eyes as he gazed at you whenever you laid in his arms far outweighed any ill thoughts you’d suffered with.
The only way you could describe it was ardent, laced with a deep desire that you’d never seen before in his brown eyes. A deep desire that would show itself in the bounds of the night after the two of you had disappeared together, culminating in you on his lap in his bed, hips rocking together as he kissed along your throat and down onto your chest. Or with your legs wrapped loosely around his hips, him grinding into you, you whispering sweet moans into his mouth spurring him on to do more, touch you more, please you more.
Dallas never pushed, he was always understanding whenever you pulled away. Of course, he’d have to adjust himself in his jeans, but he’d quickly pull you to his chest and press delicate kisses along your face, murmuring how much you mean to him, something he didn’t dare do in front of others. That side of Dallas was for you, nobody else, so you treasured it whenever he showed it.
On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Dallas’s side on one of the couches in Buck’s bar, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Dallas was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.
If it hadn’t been for the incessant country music Buck played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Dallas, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Dallas’s shoulder.
“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Dallas quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.
“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”
You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.
Dallas caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Dallas turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.
“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.
“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Dally.”
“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.
He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of country music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Dallas’s knee between your legs.
It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Dallas stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.
“Dal-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.
“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.
You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.
“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”
“Fuck, Dallas, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Dal.”
That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.
You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.
Dallas let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.
You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. Dallas had seen women before, he’d seen plenty, but none of them had ever had the effect you currently had on him. He felt his throat dry, brown eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.
“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Dallas was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.
As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.
“Dallas, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.
“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”
You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.
He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”
You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.
“Dal- Dal, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.
You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.
“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.
Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.
“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.
All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.
The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.
“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.
“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.
“It felt perfect, Dal. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”
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A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! As always you can find my work over on my ao3 under the user “Unscriptural.” Thank you anon for the request! (Sorry for the late posting, or early? Wherever you are? I finished editing it and didn’t want to queue it, so here is your daily scheduled reading material.)
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augiewrites · 2 months
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"boundaries" - dallas winston
summary: dallas carries y/n to bed
pairing: dallas winston x curtis sister!reader
word count: 478
a/n: idk if this is a dead fandom but at least three times a year i remember that the outsiders exists and become obsessed again lol
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Y/N hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so when she fell asleep on the couch Darry couldn’t bring himself to risk waking her up. The most he dared to do was drape a blanket over his sleeping sister before retreating to his bedroom for the night.
Dallas, however, didn’t give a shit.
He needed somewhere to sleep, and she was in his designated spot.
Dally had just lifted Y/N into his arms when her eyelids fluttered open, still weighed down by sleep.
“Darry?”
“No—shut up and go back to sleep.”
Y/N’s eyes snapped open at Dally’s unexpected voice and briefly registered him carrying her across the living room.
“Where we goin’?” Y/N’s voice came out in a mumble as her eyes fell shut again.
“Bed. Need a place to crash tonight.”
“And you chose my room? Gonna be a tight fit.”
Glory, she’s annoying even when she’s barely conscious, Dally thought, but he was too tired to be his usual combative self.
The hallway was dark, but he could see the shimmer of her eyes looking up at him from the void. He never liked the way she looked at him—there was too much hope, too much recognition, too much of an implication that she knew something he didn’t.
Dallas wasn’t exactly known for being respectful, but Darry’s acceptance of him meant a lot more to him than he would ever be willing to admit—even to himself. So, despite becoming quite fond of Y/N, he kept his distance. If there was one thing Dallas loved to do, it was to test the boundaries of every relationship he’s ever had, both friendly and romantic.
This was one boundary Dallas had reservations about crossing.
“Do you hate me, Dallas?” There was a softness in Y/N’s voice that was rare to hear coming from the girl.
Dallas paused in the threshold of Y/N’s bedroom and dared a glance down into her eyes, but quickly snapped out of it and kept moving across the room to her small bed.
“No, stupid.” He unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and turned to move out of the room, but he was stopped by her calling out to him.
“You not gonna tuck me in, Winston?”
He threw a glance over his shoulder and was met with the knowing glint in her eyes that he was ever-growing uneasy of.
Catching himself, he snapped back into character, scoffing and throwing a stupid plush dog at her head. He remembered the gang’s trip to the state fair a few years back, remembered how excited she was when Soda won it for her after seven tries at the ring toss, and he remembered her shoving it in his face while teasing that the K-9 unit was coming for his sorry ass.
“Go to bed.”
The door closed behind him with a solid thud.
Stupid girl.
~~~
i'm trying to get back in the writing groove but i'm so uninspired lol—feedback is appreciated as usual :)
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callme-holly · 2 months
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could you maybe please do some scenarios for (y/n) comforting sodapop, Dallas, ponyboy, and Johnny if you want please. also could you please make the reader fem please and thank you
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 [𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞.]
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - im a little behind on requets but im getting there! i've got my final exam of this week tomorrow and then i'll be a lot speedier, i promise. asks are still open for requests!!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.6k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of fighting, getting jumped and small injury detail
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Dallas Winston -  The room is quiet as you card your fingers through Dallas’ hair, the greaser’s head resting against your thigh. His eyes are closed, and there's a nasty bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, accompanied by a few bloodied scrapes that he refuses to let you clean. There’s dried blood crusted beneath his nose, which you wipe away gently with the pad of your thumb, humming softly under your breath as he breathes out a low, soft groan.  “You alright?” Your tone is barely above a whisper as you tug at the ends of his mussy locks, pushing them back from his face. He blinks once or twice, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, and his expression is a little less pained than it was just minutes ago.  “Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment, “fine.” He shifts a little bit so that his head is now more firmly planted upon your lap, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a half embrace. You reach down between the two of you and retrieve the ice pack that is sitting forgotten beside you, pressing it against his swollen cheek once more.  He makes a disgruntled noise but doesn't open his eyes again.  “Sorry 'bout this.” His voice is rough, strained from the exertion: “Y' shouldn't have to take care of me all the damn time.” The words fall heavy between the two of you as he speaks, and you smile softly, shaking your head. “It ain't too much trouble, really.” You rub small circles against his bicep, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “And besides...” your voice drops to an almost conspiratorial murmur, “I like taking care of you. It makes me feel better when I know you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”  He gives you a lopsided grin at that, eyes still closed. “You've got so much faith in me, doll.”  Your smile widens, feeling something twist inside of you. You take his hand, squeezing it gently before pressing a quick kiss to his busted-up knuckles. “Whatever.” 
Sodapop Curtis -  A small sigh leaves your lips as Soda buries his face in your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, tears cascading down his cheeks as he struggles for air.  It pains you to see him like this, his usual bright smile replaced with a look of pure anguish, silent sobs racking his body. You rub slow circles against his back, mumbling soft words of reassurance into his ear as he clings to your shirt. “I don’t understand,” he gasps, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can't they just get along? They never used to be like this. A shudder runs through him, and you tighten your hold on him, rocking him a bit back and forth as he cries. “Shh, Soda, hey, you need to breathe,” you murmur soothingly, combing your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, hushing him quietly as his cries gradually abate.  “I just want them to get along.” Soda whispers brokenly, burying his face against your collarbones. “I'm tired of being made to pick sides. I don't wanna be in the middle all the time.” You hum sympathetically, shifting slightly so that you can wrap both arms around him and pull him as close as physically possible. Soda melts into your touch, relaxing fully against you. You can tell he's exhausted, both emotionally and physically.  "I hate it.” He sounds miserable. “All they do is yell at each other. Darry is way too hard on Pony, and Pony's trying his hardest, but he can only take so much–" Soda stops abruptly, his breath hitched in his throat as another sob tears from him, wracking his body. His grip tightens around your middle and your heart clenches painfully at the sight.  “I just want things to go back to normal.” You give a slow nod, closing your eyes. “I know, I know. It'll be okay.” You press another gentle kiss to his temple and run your hands slowly up and down his spine, trying to offer as much comfort as you can. He relaxes under your touch, melting further into you as he tries to take deep, steady breaths, struggling to control himself.  You tilt his chin up so that he's looking at you once more, running your thumb over his cheek. “I love you, you know” “Mm,” he hums, blinking rapidly to rid his vision of the last remnants of tears. His eyes meet yours, and even though his gaze is glassy and filled with sadness and pain, his expression is soft and tender. “Love you too.”
Ponyboy Curtis -  You're sitting in the lot, your jacket pulled tightly around you, when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You stiffen and turn sharply, expecting to see a group of drunken socs or the odd greaser looking for trouble, only to come face to face with none other than Ponyboy Curtis. He has tears streaming down his cheeks, his hair mused as he all but throws himself at you, shoulders shaking and chest heaving. You don’t speak a word as you pull him into your arms, rubbing your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder, one fist clutching the front of your sweater as tight as possible, the other hanging uselessly by his side. For several moments, he sits in silence, letting you hold him while he finally manages to collect himself. Then he pulls back, wiping furiously at his face. “Sorry…” You don’t miss the way he averts his gaze from you as he speaks, refusing to make eye contact. “Didn't mean to bother you; I just—”  You shake your head, interrupting him. “There’s no reason for you to apologise.” You pause, considering for a long moment before continuing. “What's up?”  He exhales shakily, then hesitantly meets your gaze again. “I—Darry yelled at me again. He got real mad this time.” His voice cracks, and you pull him close once more. You know Darry’s been harder on him as of late, expecting too much of a boy Pony’s age. You know he means well, but you also know the toll it’s been taking on the younger Curtis brother and how difficult these past few weeks have been for him.  “Sometimes I don't think Darry likes me very much.” You can hear the vulnerability in his tone, unable to miss how broken he appears. He's not crying anymore; if anything, he looks a little embarrassed and ashamed. You frown, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. “Don't be ridiculous.” Your tone is firm, determined to keep him from ever getting caught up in that dark spiral. “He cares about you a whole lot.” “He's got a funny way of showin' it.” Pony grumbles softly, and you can't help but laugh at his bluntness, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “I wish he'd be nicer. I really don't like all the fighting we do.” “I know. But it'll get easier.” You look down at him. “If you want, I can go talk some sense into him.” That earns you a smile as Ponyboy nods, squeezing you a little tighter. “Good luck. I doubt he’ll listen.” You press a quick kiss to his forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll try my best.”
Johnny Cade -  Arms circle around your waist, gripping onto you tightly as you comb your fingers through his tangled, and still heavily greased, hair. Johnny’s head rests in your lap, eyes squeezed shut as he tries desperately to fall into some sort of relaxed state, but he just can't seem to find the will within himself to do so. You watch him silently, running a finger absently along his jawline, taking in the bruises and cuts littering his face and arms. He looks worn thin and broken; his cheeks are tear-stained and hollowed by exhaustion. His breathing remains unsteady and uneven, his skin pale, and you can't help but reach out and brush the pad of your thumb across the faint lines beneath his eyes, your brow furrowing deeply. He flinches slightly but doesn’t open his eyes, his breath hitching. “Sorry,” You whisper, going back to smoothing your hand over his hair. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”  Johnny lets out a soft sigh, leaning his forehead against your stomach. “S' okay…” He shifts a little closer to you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “...just glad yer here.” You bite your lower lip, tracing patterns into the back of his hand with your thumb, pressing soft kisses against his forehead as you let him snuggle closer, relishing in the simple closeness of it all. It eases your nerves knowing he's safe with you and calms the storm raging inside of you. Your mind wanders back to earlier, the images of him lying, half-dead, in that field flashing unbidden through your mind.   It takes a lot to make Johnny Cade cry, but the second you had knelt down beside him and pulled him into your arms while the gang huddled about you, his composure had completely crumbled. Sobs had wracked his body, shaking his entire frame, and you could do nothing but hold him until he had finally calmed down. And now, here he was, curled up into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline. Every little noise made him jump, every sudden movement made his muscles tense, and your heart ached for him. You wanted so badly to make everything better, but there was nothing you could do. All you could do was stay there, holding him as he cried, wishing that there was something you could do besides sit by and whisper softly to him. But, you know, right now, just you being there is enough for him.
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𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!
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augustinapril · 9 months
Text
Y/n: But what about Dally?
Darry: Don't worry about him.
Darry: I once watched him fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating his hotdog like it was nothin.
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dearsnow · 3 months
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Can you do the outsiders reacting to you doing the orange peel theory (asking them to do a small task you can do yourself) I love your writing‼️
THE ORANGE PEEL THEORY
- in which you ask the greasers to complete simple, unassuming tasks that you can easily do yourself. (the outsiders x gn!reader, fluff)
a/n - this is so cute omg 😭 the orange peel theory is so trivial but it’s a very neat concept and i love writing things like this. and thank you!!
includes: johnny, ponyboy, dally, sodapop, & darry
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“Oh shoot, I dropped my pencil. Could you get it for me, please, JOHNNY?”
Johnny does it without hesitation. He doesn’t question it, even though the pencil is way closer to you than to him, and he has to bend at an awkward angle to pick it up. You could ask him for almost anything and he’d try his best to do it. He lives and breathes to help you.
“Yeah, I got it.”
//
“Hey, PONY, can you flip this page for me? My hands are real tired.”
Ponyboy is a bit confused, considering your hands are resting on the sides of your book already. However, when he thinks about it, you might’ve hurt your hands somehow or maybe you just don’t have the energy to complete a task that is seemingly very simple. In any case, he’ll put his thoughts aside and do it for you.
“Sure. Are you okay, though?”
//
“DALLY, could you peel this orange?”
He snorts and asks if you can’t do it yourself while taking the orange from your hands. He throws it from hand to hand over your head, and when you reach to take it from him, he’ll pull it back and peel it. He’s not bothered by it, but he will take half of the orange for himself as compensation.
“Done. Need help peeling off anything else of yours, now?”
//
“Wait, SODA, would you wipe the frosting off my cheek?”
When you ask this while making a cake with him, Sodapop assumes you’re playing around. He licks it off your cheek instead then bounces away before you can berate him for being gross. He would also do pretty much anything for you in his own way- as long as you don’t get too pissed at him.
“Hah! You can’t get mad, you asked for it.”
//
“DARRY, can you cut my hangnail for me?”
You ask, handing him a pair of nail clippers. He’s confused, astounded, and mildly amused by your proposition. He asks you if you can’t just do it yourself, but halfway through talking to you he changes his mind and gently grabs your hand. He’ll act annoyed, but secretly he enjoys taking care of you in these little ways.
“Can’t you… fine, fine, give me the clippers.”
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macchiodaily · 3 months
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quick dump of MY man
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him in a suit & tie
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nobitchs-world · 2 months
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emasstars · 6 months
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pet names
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stupid pet names they’d call you | fluff/crack
a/n: i felt bad for barely posting the past few days. i’ve been working on something, i’ve just been lacking motivation to continue it. so, here’s this to pass time!
ponyboy would call you his muse, the corny-ass boy he is. the amount of poems he’d write while thinking about you is embarrassing, and it’s more embarrassing that he’s ashamed to show them to you.
johnny would call you cupcake. he panicked one day, and it slipped out, and even though you started laughing at him, he kept calling you it. at least he always thinks of you whenever he passes a bakery!
dally would call you babes. it’s so stupid, and it only works because of his new york accent. otherwise, he’d sound like the asshole he is. he says it so much, too. it’s like he calls you it just to annoy you. spoiler alert: he does. bastard.
sodapop would call you the cringiest things ever. honey buns, sweetie pie, snookums, etc. you name it, he would call you it. and, if you’ve been in a relationship for a while, he will start saying you’re his wife/husband to waiters and stuff.
darry would call you sweetie or sweetheart. it depends on his mood. sometimes, he’ll call you the light of his life. he only calls you the light of his life after long days, and in his bed with a dim light setting a low glow in the room.
two-bit would call you the stupidest things ever. pookie-poo, kitten whiskers, babypie, etc. if you’re in a particularly professional setting, he will call you snuggluffagus. no one can stop him, and if you ask him to call you something normal, he cannot. he is physically unable to.
steve would only call you pet names in private. in public, he’ll just call you by your name. in private, though, when the day’s just ended, he’ll practically worship you, calling you his angel, his queen/king, a god(dess), etc.
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jaidens · 8 months
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Your Little Hand's Wrapped Around My Finger And It's So Quiet In The World Tonight
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pairing [s] : dad!dallas winston x reader
warning [s] :| im actually crying rn | biggest dad!dallas supporter actually | mentions of all things pregnancy related: throwing up
a/n [s] : requests are open!
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Dallas is quiet as you stand in front of him, hands shaking. He has barely any reaction to what you told him, tears running down your face as you laid in his arms. Dallas holds you tight, hand laying on your neck protectively. Dallas Winston wasn't a ‘father’ type. After growing up with an absolutely horrible example, he was forced to live by himself, not relying on anyone. You came into his life and understood what he needed: unconsciously pulling him slowly out of the thick walls he has built up over his time on the Earth.
Dallas hated kids, that was one thing anyone could remember Dallas as. It was him knocking over their drink, taking candy from them, or throwing their poker cards everywhere; he hated kids. So, when you had found out you were pregnant you were understandably immediately worried. The day you told him, you were terrified. Your hands shaking as you told him, getting ready to hear yelling or slamming doors: but it was the complete opposite. Dallas cried that night with his hand lying on your stomach, with your hands in his hair.
You were four months pregnant, surviving the time of morning and night sickness. However, you still pushed through while Dallas would follow you into the bathroom at all moments it didn't matter either way. His hand would rub your back and hold your hair back. Dallas wasn't known for acting like this, holding his girlfriend in his arms while she was sick. He was changing in his life, and he let those changes overtake him, saddening the dumb Greasers who would try and convince him to slash tires, by saying no to their advances.
If you asked Dallas fifteen months ago about how he felt about kids, he would grumble and say how gross they were. Now, he thinks the baby with soft brown eyes and dark whisps of hair kicks her legs at him while giggling, is the sweetest creature ever. For the nine months you held her and the pain you experienced, she looked identical to her father. Same nose, lips, and big doe eyes. You weren't angry however, knowing her face would be loved just like you loved Dally’s face.
“Hey Dal’,” You say as he watches you wrap around the corner of the living room. You and Dallas saved up enough money for a small house with just enough you needed to live. Two bedrooms, one big enough for you and Dallas and one for the baby. She was named Darlene after Dallas’ mother, in hopes to remember her legacy. You thought the name was absolutely gorgeous, and she was given your mother’s middle name. “How is Darla?”
Dallas looks up at you, his finger has her hand wrapped around it, as she chews on it. “Hey, sweetheart.” You sit down next to him, and lay on his shoulder. You both admire Darla and her gorgeousness and the happiness she radiated to everyone. “She’s been great.” Dallas’ voice is soft, barely speaking above a whisper as his hand pushes back her hair. You're staring at Dally as he picks Darla up and gives her forehead a tight kiss, and then gives you one. “She probably needs a feeding now. Why don't you go rest, Dal? You've been up all day and night.” You offer but he shakes his head, and follows you to the couch where you feed Darlene.
Another thing that's shown up is his clinginess towards you. He stopped leaving you alone, choosing to go everywhere with you, even if that just includes changing Darlene’s diaper. He's been an amazing, incredible father and you're the most glad to have his support in your life. For the fact he stayed with you, and decided to care for her.
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thewriterg · 7 months
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𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲
pairing(s); dallas winston x gn!reader, mention of curtis gang
summary; Dallas Winston was in simple terms the love of your life but you refused to put up with anything less of what you deserved and he figured it out quick enough for him to fix it —flufftober day; 2–
word count; 600+
request; dallas winston x reader who does NOT put up with his bullshit💀🙏🏽 she will teach that mf a lesson if he tries to mouth off to her too🗣️ — @jokersscarrd
warning(s); mention of arguing, reader rather be caught dead then kissing dallys ass, fluff, kisses, and language
playlist; My love mine all mine by Mitski
A/n;—GIFs; @omegaponyboycurtis— killing two birds with one stone with a request
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The crisp air of Tulsa flew against the current of your body the color changing leaves crunched under you boots holding yourself under the worn leather jacket that wasn’t yours taking in a breath of humidity before taking a seat on the bench the worn wools groaning at your weight you’d admit that your body temperature was cooler than your nerves were
it was a fact that Dallas Winston was the burner to your simmering pot
You huffed roughly into the cool air fog following after your breath you pulled a smoke from the box that came from the inside breast pocket of the jacket that smelled of smoke, pine, and the fading of stale beer
You took the lighter from the pocket of your jeans letting your thumb roll over the striker wheel just for it to not give a lick of a spark causing you to ‘curse real good at it’ as Ponyboy would say
“Need a light Y/l/n?” You whipped your head around to the location of the voice your blood simmering like the apple filling before being put in a pie crust
You were up from your seated position on the bench walking away from the juvenile listening to his leaf crunching steps behind you calling out your name in a obnoxious, disruptive, way that he knew you hated
Suddenly his hold was on your wrist in a firm grip and your palm stung against his pale cheek a faint making already appearing as the slapping noise carried through the winds with an echo that you couldn’t quite feel sorry for
“Now listen to me Dallas, I’d rather drop dead than kiss your feet and shake like a leaf at drop of your name. I’m not Buck, or Ponyboy, or Slyvia, or any punk to beat on you savy?” You hissed the words dripping like venom from your tongue and teeth and after a brief moment of Dally visibly fighting his pride and his attraction to you in the current moment he’d finally kissed his teeth a small smirk forming against his lips
“You got it doll” The hood put his hands up in mock surrender as you rolled your eyes his arms slithering around your waist to pull you into his front where you were inches apart no avail for personal space
“You f’give me babe?” You could picture the smirk on his sharp face as he leaned his head into your neck nibbling against your skin while in response you just hummed in return
“Yeah, you mouth off to me again and I’ll do more than give you a slap” You threatened no room for a joke in your voice as the brunette finally lifted from your jugular wrapping an arm around your shoulder protectively forcing you to a few steps before you started walking on your own
That day you walked through the park and took the long way home and the stinging against Dally’s cheek that you would’ve been dead for if it wasn’t you was something he’d remember you by
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
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quizzicalwriter · 4 months
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Hi! Idk if you do headcanons but if you do can you do boyfriend headcanons for Dallas? It can be up to you to make it general things or just smut related things.
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Dating Dallas HC’s
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Despite what you may think, I don’t see Dallas being an overly possessive boyfriend. You two go about your business and that’s that, but the moment he catches someone flirting with you he’s bounding over and making sure everyone knows you’re his. Beyond that? He’s alright with PDA, but he’s not about to make out in front of his friends, that’s private stuff.
He’d let you wear his jacket, necklace, rings, everything. He loves seeing you in his clothing, and he’d certainly notice the moment you aren’t wearing one item that you usually do - and it’s not even for the reason you think, he’s just worried you’ll lose his stuff and he’ll have to find another one.
He has no problem remembering birthdays, anniversaries, all that jazz. He loves surprising you by remembering important dates for you. But the moment you ask him if he remembers someone you met last week he’s pulling a blank. He’ll remember eventually, but he sucks at remembering faces.
You ever need something but don’t have the money for it? Dallas does! Don’t ask where he got it, most of the time he doesn’t remember or doesn’t want you worrying about him - he doesn’t know which is worse and he ain’t about to find out.
On the topic of money, if you tried to pay him back he’d act personally offended and never accept the money. I’m talking full-on mouth dropping open, loud scoff, all of it. You’re his girl, why the hell are you trying to pay him back? Just give him a kiss or something.
Loves driving you places, and lets you control the music in reasonable amounts - meaning, you cannot play the same song over, and over. He’d let you get away with three replays max before he’s groaning and turning the radio off and tossing the mix out the window. He’d apologize afterward and buy you a new cassette.
I do not see him being a kind driver, the man has road rage and you’ve seen it. There have been multiple instances where you’ve ducked into the passenger seat and whisper-yelled at him to shut up - he never does.
The man is like a corpse when he sleeps. You want him to move over? Good luck. You’d have a better chance rolling over onto him to get sleep, he wouldn’t wake up either way unless you pushed him from the bed.
Speaking of sleep, if you’re ever cold and plaster your morgue-like hands against his back, he will shriek. His back will arch, his legs will shoot out, and he’ll throw every curse known to man your way as he moves away from your hands - your hands still end up warm.
His friends are his family and he takes their opinions seriously, I can see him genuinely fretting over their view of you if he cares enough for you. Hell, he’s got feelings for you, of course, he’s going to want his family to like you. They will, it’ll take a while to get used to their form of joking, but you’ll be at home with them and it’ll make Dallas smile.
On the subject of family, Dallas doesn’t mention his much. He might if you’re close enough, but you’re likely to get bits and pieces as time goes by until he’s sure you won’t leave either. When he finally tells you about his upbringing it hurts your heart, you’re both mentally spent by the end of it and you promise him to never mention it unless he does first. He appreciates you for it.
If you stay over at his place often enough he’ll try to make the place look more presentable. Mainly rearranging stuff that he hasn’t touched in months, maybe buying another set of bedsheets. You notice every time something changes in his room and whenever you mention it he’s happy to talk about it, even if he tries to play it off cool.
He watches you sleep, not so much in a creepy way, but it’s something he loves to do. If you talk or snore in your sleep he will imitate it in the morning. In the moment he finds it cute, but he’ll never admit it.
His version of helping you cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner is standing behind you with his chin on your shoulder, or leaning against the kitchen counter with a cigarette between his lips. The man can’t cook, maybe he could, but he likes watching you cook too much to try - that and the one time he tried to help he burnt the shit out of his hand.
If you smoke he’ll light your cigarettes or share his own, if you don’t he’ll appreciate you standing beside him while he smokes, but he ain’t gonna force you to be near him when he does - just don’t nag the man, he’s been smoking since he was a kid, I don’t think he could stop even if he wanted to.
Whenever he smokes he’ll blow the smoke to the side, always ensuring it doesn’t blow in your face. But, if the smoke follows you he’ll murmur some cliche line like “Smoke follows beauty.”
Any music he’s into he will show you in a heartbeat. He thrives on showing you things you haven’t seen yet, whether it’s movies at the drive-in he’s sneaking you into, or a cassette he snagged from a nearby store - either way, his eyes watch you for any reaction.
Definitely considers going on a walk or eating food in Buck’s T-Bird a date. You’ll have to specify what you want if you want anything different, otherwise he’s content with the routine. If you ask for something different he won’t take offense to it, but he might chide you for it.
Words aren’t his forte, actions are. He’ll try his best to be kind, but he’ll occasionally slip and might say something rude. If you can shoot back your own sarcastic quips it’ll make him swoon, he loves nothing more than someone who can fire back at him.
Likely won’t tell you that he loves you for YEARS. You can say it first, he’ll nod and likely kiss your cheek or forehead in return. You know what he means, but he’s not the type to say it until he feels absolutely certain about you. Dallas knows how he feels about someone rather quickly, but he’s wary when it comes to love. He wants to mean it, mean it in a way that scares him.
The first time he tells you he loves you will be when you’re asleep. He’ll continue doing that until one day when he randomly springs it on you. It’ll likely be around a cigarette, but you’ll be able to tell from his eyes how deeply he means it. Don’t expect him to say it often, but know that he always feels it.
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A/N: This is so short, I’m so sorry. I’ve never done headcanons before, so I hope this was good! I think about Dallas’s character so much that I actually had a bit of fun with this! This is a late night post for me, but I finished it up and figured I’d post it for y’all anyways. Thank you all for the continued love and support you’ve shown me and my work!! I appreciate you all more than words could ever describe! <3
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augiewrites · 2 months
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"bartender" - dallas winston
request: Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could do one for Dally from the outsiders where he's helping bartend for Buck to earn a couple bucks and Curtis!Reader is just sitting at the bar teasing him about it.
pairing: dallas winston x curtis!reader
word count: 618
a/n: i can't tell if i'm writing dally too ooc, but i was aiming more for shithead vibes than meanie vibes
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Dally was too aware of Y/N Curtis sitting all by her lonesome at the end of the bar. She was wearing a nice dress and more makeup than usual, but Dallas hadn’t seen her speak to anyone since arriving. She looked good—a fact that Dally would never admit out loud.
“Ain’t it past your bedtime?” He asked, sitting a fresh beer in front of her. The bottle she ordered at the beginning of the night had been long finished, the label picked clean and laying in a little pile on the bar.
“Aren’t you the one always telling me ‘sleep is for the weak’?” She smirked at him, taking a long drink from the bottle, “Just taking a page out of your book.”
He leaned against the bar, “Your brothers know you’re here?”
“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” she rolled her eyes, “I deserve to have a little fun too.”
“Being all depressing by yourself isn’t exactly what I’d call fun.”
Y/N glared at him as he moved to take another patron’s order. After a few short minutes, he returned to his spot across from her and gave her an expectant look.
They stared each other down for a few seconds before Y/N rolled her eyes at him, looking away.
Dallas opened his mouth to tell her to either stop being a sad sack or go home when she cut him off, still not meeting his gaze.
“I was supposed to meet up with Scott Davis, but he never showed.”
“Davis? That guy’s a fuckin bum!”
She finally looked up at him, anger flaring behind her eyes, “Well it’s not like I wanna marry him or anything! You’re not exactly fit to be lecturing me on who to hang out with.”
“Oh, I think I’m perfectly fit, dollface.”
She rolled away the anger in her eyes and sent him a teasing smile, “I guess it takes a bum to know one.”
He glared at her, but only half heartedly, flicking a small piece of ice at her forehead.
“Yup—that right there. Bum behavior.”
“I guess it takes a bum to know one,” he mocked her, “at least I have a job.”
“Not sure if you’re gonna make six figures by over-serving people and being mean to lonely girls at the bar.” Y/N finished her drink and slid the empty bottle across the bar.
Dallas continued glaring, “Y’know, you’re a mean drunk, lady.”
Y/N laughed, and Dallas couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his lips.
“Two beers is hardly enough to be drunk.”
“Alright, then. You’re just mean,” Dallas popped the cap off another beer and sat it in front of Y/N. “Gonna start correcting people when they go on about how ‘Y/N Curtis is just such a nice girl’”, he shook his head, “if only they knew.”
Y/N scoffed, “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that.”
“Yeah, right, with your whole ‘Saint Curtis’ act—helpin’ old ladies cross the street and tutoring dumbass kids.”
“Devil in disguise I guess,” the pair smirked at each other, holding the gaze for much longer than they should have.
Y/N cleared her throat, looking around the bar, “Shouldn’t you be doing your job?”
He took the bottle from her grasp before finishing it off in one last swig, “Shouldn’t you be going home?”
She scoffed and started collecting her things, standing up from the bar stool. “That towel,” she pointed to the dish rag tossed over his shoulder, “makes you look stupid, by the way.”
Dally removed the towel to swat at her, “Go home, stupid.”
Y/N moved toward the door, sending Dally one last smile, “Go back to work, bum.”
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imdead770 · 4 months
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bro you should write x reader fluff headcannons for each of the outsiders characters
The Outsiders x Reader fluff - Dallas Winston
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Authors Notes - 1. This is such a great idea. This is a great ask, woah. Thank you so much. 2. I'll do one for each of the characters, but I'm in a Dallas mood. 3. These aren't complete thoughts, more random sweet shit they'd do.
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Dallas Winston
• Let's start with the basics
• Dallas Winston? Sweet? Damn you're lucky.
• When he confessed to you it wasn't a direct confession
• Called you pet names before you started dating
• But you're dumbass thought that was just his personality
• Which it is. You're right. He flirts 25/8.
• One day just asked you if you wanted to catch a drive-in
• And you were all 🤯
• Dallas Winston??? Actually asking someone out??
• The gang was practically flipping tables
• At the beginning he's still keeping up the act
• You know the one
• The " I'm from New York, fight me bitch " act
• But once he gets comfortable with you he's more " I'm from New York, love you bitch "
• He literally never calls you by your real name
• Doll is 100% his go-to
• Sweetheart, doll-face, the occasional darlin' and princess
• If you ask what your name is he'll probably ask which one
• He's actually surprisingly good with dates?
• Like the number type of date and give me your number type of dates
• He could list your birthday, the day you first kissed, the day you first fucked, easy.
• Never will though
• Gotta stay tough
• But he also is pretty good with balancing his time with you, the gang, and whatever else he does
• We all know he wouldn't hold your hand
• His hand's either around your waist, your shoulder, or in your back pocket
• He's practically attached to you
• He's not affectionate, but his hands always somewhere on you
• Like a moth to light
• He kisses you so much??
• Not pecks, he isn't Soda.
• If he's kissing you, he's making sure you remember it.
• Mf makes out with you anytime he gets a chance
• You're bored? He's kissing you. Trying to sleep? His tongue is already in your mouth. Accept it. You wanted this.
• Worst part is you can't even complain cause he's a damn good kisser.
" Dal- "
" Yeah? What, you got a problem, doll? "
" I hate you.. "
• You made out for like 3 hours.
• You're literally tired 90% of the time cause this motherfucker has too many hormones
• Not just kissing.
• You normally go over to his room at Bucks and sleep
• If you have strict parents he'll sneak into your room
• Not really a cuddle guy, but he'll let you rest your head on your chest or he'll drape an arm around you
• HIS CHAIN!?!
• I don't think people talk about this enough
• You fidgeting with his chain as you lay on him, both of you half asleep as he slowly smoked
• 😭🫶
• Whenever he's in jail and you visit him he'll give you his chain so you have something of his
• 😭😭😭🫶🫶🫶
• Has two pictures of you in his wallet
• One of your face, helps him get through jail and long nights
• Another of your body, either in lingerie or stripped, whatever you were comfortable with. The reason for this is self explanatory.
• Johnny's gotta move down to 2nd place because he loves you so much
• He's a close second though
• He skips classes a lot, so you've probably skipped with him before
• He went to school more so he could see you more
• Still almost flunks out though because he's busy starring at you
• This is getting long so I'll wrap it up
• He's still a little bitch, but he tries to get better for you
• Him and the gang are so grateful for you because his life would've gone to shit without you
No idea who to do next so please comment because I'm too indecisive 🙏
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augustinapril · 8 months
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Pony: Do crabs think people walk sideways?
Dally: . . . Pony, what the hell.
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dearsnow · 4 months
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“DO YOU LOVE ME?”
- in which you ask (some of) the outsiders boys if they love you. could be taken as insecure, joking, or curious, the context is not specified :) (the outsiders x gn!reader, fluff but minor angst in johnny and dally’s parts)
a/n - headcanons for the boys :) i’m trying to get some more substantial writing done, so be prepared for that (i am a slow ass writer with very little free time but i am trying real hard) <3
includes: johnny, dally, ponyboy, & sodapop
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JOHNNY looks at you like you’ve just stepped on his shoes. “‘Course I do.” He murmurs. One of his hands is entwined with yours, and the other is running through his greased hair. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever got.” You smile softly and lean against his shoulder as he moves his jacket to cover you. You built the world to him, and he hates the thought of you not knowing it. He swears, in that moment, to never let you go a single day without some sort of reminder that he thinks you hung the moon in the sky.
“Doll, you’re sweet, but I don’t love nothin’.” DALLY states, blowing cigarette smoke to the left of him, away from you. He knows you don’t like it when he blows it in your direction. “Ask me again in ten years, ‘kay?” He smiles, but the humor is lost on both of you. You knew he wouldn’t say yes, and though his eyes are begging you to believe him, he knows in his heart that he is a liar. If Dallas Winston were to admit he loves you, he would be throwing you into a lifetime of hardship and trouble and rough palms. So, for now, he’ll keep it a secret.
There’s a heavy blush on PONYBOY’s face when you ask that question. He stumbles a bit, trying in vain to come up with any answer. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” He steps forward, taking your hands in his. “Do you love me?” His voice is soft, and the sun reflects off of his deep eyes. He rarely gets a chance to be this gentle with anyone else in his life. When you affirm what he hoped deep down in his heart, that you love him back, he’s over the moon. “Thank god.”
“Yes.” SODAPOP says, without a hint of hesitation. “Why? Did you think I didn’t or something?” His mouth forms a tiny frown as he moves closer to you. He takes your face in his hands and scours it for any hint of insecurity, any tell that will show him how you’re feeling. He loves you, and he needs you to know it. He needs the whole world to know it- of course, everyone important has had it rubbed in their face since the moment he started liking you, but the whole world couldn’t hurt. “I’ve always loved you, don’t ever forget it.”
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macchiodaily · 3 months
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30????????
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