summary: ponyboy’s having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you are dating dallas winston. (part 2 of dally’s girl? but can be read as a standalone)
content: dally x soc!reader, fem!reader, platonic!ponyboy, platonic!johnny, post canon lite, mostly fluff with a cheeky makeout
warning: profanity, mentions of sex, suggestive
“Pony, you got 5 out of 20 terms correct. I know you don’t love Shakespeare, but this just isn’t like you. Are you okay?” You asked, brows furrowed in concern, eyes worried.
You were so soft. Caring. Like the big sister he never knew he wanted. And you were dating Dallas Winston. Of course, he was finding it hard to focus.
Ponyboy shook his head, not wanting to upset you, “Yeah, yeah, of course, I guess my mind is just somewhere else, sorry.”
It took one look to know that you did not remotely believe him.
You gently placed your perfectly manicured hand on his. “Ponyboy, you know you can talk to me.”
He shook his head again, careful to avoid your eyes.
“Is this about,” you leaned in close to whisper, “Dally?”
Ponyboy stiffened. Of course, it was about Dally. How the hell did he manage to get a girl like you? You were pretty, intelligent, kind, and above all… YOU WERE A SOC! The very thing Dally hated most in this world. Sure, he’d softened a little since the events of last year. Since Bob’s death, the rivalry between greasers and socs had definitely lessened, but things certainly weren’t hunky-dory.
What was even odder was how much Dally seemed to listen to you, respect you. Seriously, what was going on here?? For God’s sake, he was lying on the Curtis couch right now, just waiting for you to be done studying.
Dally hadn’t started there, of course. First, he sat at the table and invited you to sit on his lap while you studied. When you didn’t accept, he then stretched his arm over your shoulders and made snarky, unhelpful commentary about the material you were studying, which is precisely what led him to his current position. Stretched on the couch, mindlessly flipping a lighter and tuning in and out of whatever Johnny was watching.
“Ponyboy?” Your voice pulled him back to your question. A question he really didn’t want to answer.
Looking up at you shyly through his lashes, Ponyboy nodded in confirmation.
“Do you want to talk about it? You can ask me whatever you want,” you were too nice. Way too nice.
“I just need a second to wrap my head around it. Just a lot, ya know? I’m real sorry,”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” You closed your book decisively, “How bout we call it a day? Add an extra hour to tomorrow's study session to make up for it? Does that sound good?”
“Sounds good to me!” Dallas called out, leaning against the doorframe.
“I don’t remember asking you, Dally.” You weren’t being mean, just a matter of fact (and a bit teasing if the smile on your face was any indication).
“It, uh, sounds good to me, too. I think I’m studied out,” Pony interjects.
“Fair enough.” You placed your books in your bag, standing up to dust off your skirt. In the blink of an eye, Dally found his way behind you, confidently wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his head on your shoulder.
“Pony, when are Darry and Soda getting home?” Johnny asked, slinking his way into the kitchen.
“They’re both workin’ tonight.”
“What are you gonna do for dinner?” You asked softly.
“I’ll figure somethin’ out, don’t worry,” Pony answered sheepishly.
You looked at Dally, eyelashes fluttering.
“No,” he answered firmly.
You pouted slightly, “Baby.”
Dally pinched his nose, groaning as he motioned to Pony, “Get in the fucking car, we’re going to the Dingo. You, too, Johnnycakes.”
You smiled widely, thanking your boyfriend and leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Dally leaned into you, allowing your heads to touch for a moment, before turning his attention back to the boys, “Go. ‘Fore I change my mind.”
“It was really nice of you to get the boys dinner,” you coo softly, as you twist a strand of Dally’s dark hair between your fingers.
“Told ya I was nice,” he murmurs from where his head is resting comfortably on your abdomen.
Dallas had climbed through your window about twenty minutes ago and made himself at home amongst your plush pink comforter and stuffed animals. For the past month, he had spent nearly every night wrapped up in bed with you. He swore it helped him sleep, but really, it was just nice to be with you. Feel your heartbeat against his body as he held you close each night. His little stint in jail was the longest he’d gone without you, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been losing his mind.
Dally pressed a kiss to your stomach, “Besides, it always helps to be incentivized.” His hot mouth trailed up your clothed sternum, pausing midway to rest his chin and look up at you.
His fingers curled around the ring hanging from your neck. His ring. “Looks good on ya, sweetheart,” he said as he kissed along your collarbone, occasionally stopping to gently suck on your soft skin in the hopes of pulling a reaction out of you.
In your time dating Dallas Winston, you learned that this kind of switch-up was common for him. One minute, he’s cuddly; next, he’s absolutely insatiable. Not that you necessarily did much to satiate him, not the way the base of his stomach burned to be extinguished.
“And what exactly were you hoping to get in reward?”
“Ain’t it obvious, doll? You,” He continued his ministrations up to your neck, his body caging yours. He took care to press a kiss after each adjective, “Beautiful, perfect, sexy you.”
Your face flushed brightly, “You sure are a cheeky one, aren’t ya?”
Dallas met your lips hungrily before returning his attention to your neck, nipping playfully at the sensitive flesh. “Cheeky. Horny…”
“Just kidding, doll… mostly.” He chuckled slightly as he placed a peck on your lips. “You know you got me wrapped around your pretty little finger, right?”
“How you figure?” You asked, trying to maintain a teasing tone despite the vulnerability behind your question.
“Have me lying around the Curtis house for hours, taking the boys out for dinner. Walking my ass all the way here to climb through your window, when I know damn well we ain’t going all the way tonight. And fuck, I don’t even care.” Dally laughed before a more subdued expression crossed his face. His rough fingers delicately traced your jaw before grabbing it. His eyes met yours in a way you could almost swear was vulnerable as he continued, “It’s just worth it to hold ya, kiss ya.” He hesitates slightly, “See ya. What have you done to me, sweetheart?”
Flushed and flattered beyond belief, you reach out for Dally, smashing your lips again. You moved against his mouth slowly, deliberately, desperate to convey every feeling you were too scared to voice.
Dally’s hot breath fanned against your face as you pulled away. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple before rolling off of you and tugging you slightly to follow him with a soft, “C’mere.”
There, wrapped up securely in his arm, head against his pounding heart, you thanked your lucky stars you were Dally’s girl.
