Honeybee Curtis!Reader x Dally Winston, in wich...
Dallas Winston doesn't like the Curtis' wanna be Soc sister, but he still follows her to the drive-in just to make sure she's safe. You know, for Darry and Soda. Not for himself at all.
wc: 1.8k
warnings: angsty ending? will have more parts tho. first dally fic. intentional lower case. no use of y/n. reader is called Honeybee cause i thought it was cute that she'd have an unusuall name like her younger brothers. reader has a hard time balancing her soc friendgroup and fashion with her family and homelife.
“and where’s baby Soc at?” Dally asks as he looks around the Curtis living room, settling down on the couch. “she finally got a pink house across town and left your greaser asses?”
“don’t start it, Dally.” Soda pleaded. “Honey’s not a soc. she’s just into fashion, that’s all. Pony has good grades, is he a soc for that?”
“don’t know, haven’t decided yet” Dally teased, earning a complaint from Pony from the kitchen dining table where he was studying.
“i mean, you can’t deny she looks like a soc” Two-Bite circled back, always ready to throw wood into the fire just for the simple pleasure of watching things burn.
“hangs out with them, too” Steve added slightly less jokily which prompted Soda’s elbow to meet his ribs.
Dally just grinned smugly at Soda, taking up his usual place like he owned it and everything around it. beer already magically in his hand. if there was something Dally liked was being right. especially when it pissed off other people.
“if i was a Soc none of you unemployed leaches would be welcomed in my house.” a higher pitched voice suddenly filled the room, as you walked in in a baby pink mod dress with more beer to pass around the guests.
it’s not like they weren’t more than used to getting up and helping themselves to whatever they fancied from the fridge, but you liked to keep things civilized. the less your brothers’ friends wandered around the house like they owned it the better. you liked them and had known most of them since you were a girl. they were your friends too in a way, but they were a lot to handle most of the time.
living with three brothers wasn’t easy, not even when your mom was alive. but living with three brothers who constantly had another four boys in the house was an even worst deal. you liked your house clean, smelling nice and quiet. which is exactly what you never got when they were around. so, you tried to control them as best you could and minimize the damage: give them the food and drinks so they don’t take more than they’re supposed to, hide anything they’ll probably break (or steal) and keep your bedroom door locked at all times.
“Honeybee, hey! you know we’re just teasing. c’mon kid, you’re my favorite Curtis!” Two-Bit pleaded playfully, basically begging for one of the cans you carried with you.
you tossed it to him sticking your tongue out, which prompted Johnny and Pony to giggle. making your way to the door, you spotted Dally shaking his head, amused, and lighting a cigarette. great, they could have a couch that smelled like smoke again. you sent a pointed look to Soda and then to the window, wordlessly saying something along the lines of “if I come back to a couch that smells like smoke i’ll kill Winston and then you”.
freshly showered, Darry came out of the bathroom just in time to catch you across the room with your hand already on the doorknob. “you goin’ somewhere?”
“out?” you replied like it was obvious, only to be met with Darry’s usual expression of someone who is not even slightly convinced.
“drive-in. won’t be home late.” you elaborated.
you knew your brother needed more. never mind he was only a year and some change older than you. for the longest time it felt like you were younger than Pony in his eyes. it had taken a lot of convincing over the years to get to where you were now, which wasn’t total freedom but was a lot better than before.
“date with a soc, Honeybee?” Dally teased dragging his words and blowing smoke your way just to spite you.
always pushing everyone’s buttons searching for a reaction. never just minding his own business. you almost figured he was allergic to keeping out of arguments.
“why? you jealous, Winston?” You spat almost instinctively.
“is it a date?” Darry doubled down, speaking over Dally and forcing him to stop mouthing off at you before he cussed and Darry had to kick him out for being disrespectful. it wouldn’t have been the first time. the boy really was sensitive for a new yorker.
the problem was you were trying not to lie to your older brother, so the more you said the worse. why couldn’t Dallas just be quiet for once.
“it’s just friday night, friends go out.” you explained “can i go now? you’re aware i have to walk there; i’m going to be late.”
“yeah, it’s fine. go, just… don’t be home late. and be careful.” your older brother conceded after a moment. awesome, didn’t even need Soda to intervene for you.
“thank you, bye!”
unfortunately for you, Dallas Winston was not a very busy guy. he didn’t have a curfew or a real job; he didn’t have anywhere to be. he wasn’t ruled by time like all the other mere mortals. Dallas was only ruled by Dallas. most of the time that meant wandering around, drifting.
people like to say that trouble followed Dallas Winston wherever he went, but really it was him who followed trouble. he looked for it. wandered around until he found it and then searched for a way to insert himself in it. didn’t matter if it wasn’t anything to do with him, he’d make it about him. you don’t get known by name by all the towns police officers if you don’t spend your time actively trying to find trouble. and when Dally couldn’t find trouble, he went out of his way to find a place where it could grow and then he started it.
now, if anyone were to ask Dally, he’d say he was just doing Darry a favor. always the worried big brother. hell, Dally’s might’ve been a thug, but thugs can be good friends too. he’d claim that he knew his friend didn’t trust his kid sister with those socs she ran around with and that it was really no trouble at all. what difference would it make if he just went and checked on you, just to make sure everything was alright. help his friend out. Dally was at the drive-in a lot anyways, wouldn’t cost him a thing. he dragged Johnny along for good measure.
he was just going to sneak in, find you and keep an eye on you. no big deal, you weren’t even supposed to know they were there at all. except Dally didn’t find you with your ditsy hairspray smelling friends, you were with a guy. Some soc who was probably planning to make a living out of inheriting his dad’s business and not moving a finger until he dropped dead in his linen sheets. sure, there was another soc couple with you, but still. his hand was a bit too low on your back for his liking. for Darry’s liking.
“i thought she said it wasn’t a date” Johny said in tone of question as he too spotted you and your plaid jacket wearing boyfriend making their way to the snack-bar.
“stay here.” Dally instructed plainly, voice lower than before. Johnny didn’t fight it; ain’t safe to contradict Dally when he gets that look in his face.
“well, well, well. look at what we have here.” the greaser said once he reached the couple, immediately blocking your way with his body.
“ignore him” you mumble to your date as you pulled him to move around Dallas. this was the last thing you needed. which was probably exactly why Dallas would think it was funny.
“may i ask what’s going on here?” Dally questioned you as he fell nonchalantly into step beside your date who was already getting a bit done with the whole shticks.
“look, man, leave us alone.” he threatened, pulling you closer to his side.
“this a date?” Dally continued, still trying his best to treat the guy like he was invisible.
“what do you think, greaser? you have a problem with that?” the soc spat back, letting go of you and squaring up to Dallas. it was not well received, that much was clear in his eyes. especially to you who didn’t know Dallas well, but know him well enough to know he is making the effort of his life to keep ignoring Paul.
“i thought you said it wasn’t a date.” he spoke to you again.
“i thought you said you weren’t jealous” you argued with a shrug.
“uhm, you’re funny.” he responds humorlessly, reaching for a cigarette and a lighter clearly on edge now. you’d be damned if you let Dallas start a fight with Paul.
“yeah, well, you’re not. just leave us be. go start a fight somewhere else.” you said reaching for your date’s hand to pull him away from what could turn into a very painful black eye in a few seconds.
you were stopped in the same place for a while and probably speaking slightly louder than you hoped for, because the socs around were starting to look. a greaser picking a fight with a soc was just another day, but a soc girl speaking back so much wasn’t really something they saw every day. if it was up to you they wouldn’t be seeing it at all.
“who said anything about a fight, Honey. i don’t wanna fight. he don’t look like much of a fighter either. you got a blade, soc?” Dally instigated blowing smoke in your faces and moving closer to Paul again like personal space personally offended him.
you could hear people snickering now, whispering about you, looking, judging. Dallas chest met your open palm before it met Paul. having moved between the two, you spoke more quietly so only the three of you heard.
“you’re making a scene, Dally.” You said with a pleading look. You didn’t need a scene; you didn’t want a scene. “leave, please.”
something in the way you begged instead of screaming at him watered down some of the fire behind Dally’s eyes. or maybe it was because you finally looked deep into them maybe for the first time ever and he wasn’t sure he wanted you too. you’d never called him dally before.
“jezz, Hon, i’m playing.” he shrugged moving away from your touch “i’m playing. i’m leaving. i know when i’m not wanted. just though it was funny seeing you two here today, that’s all.”
“yeah, very funny. just hilarious, really. you know, you really made my night Winston, thank you so much.” you snarked before storming off, turning your back to a snickering Dallas putting out his cigarette under his boot.
Paul followed right in your tail. Dally could still catch the start of your conversation.
“where do you know this thug from, Bee?” “i don’t.” “you called him, Dally.”
