Darry takes control but in a natural, more gentle way. He always asks before he does things, making sure you’re 100% comfortable, and he listens to every single sound you make, knowing exactly what you like.
He’ll pin your wrists above your head and force you to look at him the whole time just so he can see you fall apart for him.
He uses his strength to his advantage, picking you up like it’s nothing, pinning you to walls, and throwing you over his shoulder. But his hands are always gentle unless you ask otherwise.
He’s never overly talkative, but when he does speak, it’s dirty. ‘Look at you, so damn pretty under me.’ // ‘you want more, sweetheart? Say it. C’mon, baby. Tell me what you want’ .
Morning sex is a go-to before work. There’s something about you both being tired, wrapped up in the warmth of the sheets, and having to be quiet to not wake anyone else that really gets him going.
Also quickies when he’s on break at work. Whether he stops home for lunch or you visit him, he can’t resist.
Major praise kink!! He lives for hearing you tell him how good he is. He’ll coax all the little praises out of you, and you do so willingly, knowing just what it does to him.
He’s a simple guy: missionary, doggy. But he also loves having you on top, watching you do all the work, hands on your hips, guiding you with very little effort.
When he’s worked up, he can get pretty rough. He’ll fuck you against walls, your legs around his waist, hands in his hair.
When he’s behind you, he’ll wrap his arm around your throat, his bicep pressed under your chin just enough to make your breath catch.
He'll push you until you're shaking and whimpering, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you before he even considers letting himself finish. ‘C’mon, give me one more, sweetheart. Thats it…”
He lives for giving you head and will settle between your thighs like he belongs there. He never rushes, kissing your thighs, holding you open for him while he alternates between slow licks and deeper ones. But once he finds a rhythm, he locks in, holding you down.
He’s messy with it: slick on his chin, lips shiny, and he’ll spit on it if he’s feeling particularly worked up, thumb on your clit, eyes half-lidded.
When it comes to receiving, he's never cocky about it. He’ll sit back, hand in your hair, trying his hardest now to buck up into you.
Aftercare is so tender with him and he always makes sure to let you know how good you were for him. He’ll wipe you off and shower you with gentle kisses, murmuring sweet praises.
—IN WHICH, the greasers realize they’re truly, and honestly, in love.
tags/warnings: gn!reader possible OOC, story-focused rather than comedic headcanons, fluff and nothing else(lie), comforting steve, swearing, soda’s part is rushed cuz i ran out of ideas.
ೃauthor notes⁀➷ wow shocker i leave for awhile and come back with a new theme. anyways, hi angels! i love you all sm and i forgot how much i loved being here🥹..! i missed u guys so much!
—
Johnny Cade
cars zoomed by the lot at concerning speeds, the sound of wind being broken up by the obnoxious cop sirens or a drunkard yelling down the street.
though, to you and johnny, all of that fell to deaf ears. it was like the world didn’t matter to you—as long as johnny sat beside you.
the stars seemed to only shine above you two, twinkling and gleaming in ways that you’d never seen before. the moon was your sunlight, with johnny giving you the warmth.
his head rested on top of yours that was against his shoulder, his arm draped loosely around your waist. your thigh was pressed against his, making him more than a little nervous.
sitting in the lot with you made him nervous, despite you and him dating for a long while now. you made him..giddy. that’s the word.
you made him feel like a child again; the child he never got to be.
johnny had his head tilted upward toward the stars and the sky, matching what you were doing so he didn’t look like a clueless idiot.
your hand left your lap, your eyes flickering downward for just a moment that went unnoticed to johnny. you gently grabbed his scarred hand, holding his hand in yours. you held him like he was glass.
johnny felt his face get hot. like, really hot. you were so gentle with him, the type of gentle that he had never been treated with.
he looked down at you, your head still on his shoulder. your hair was so shiny, you were so beautiful and such a perfect fit for him with the way your body mended with his in a time like this.
perfect.
his lips were quickly pressed against the crown of your head, pulling away before he got too nervous to talk.
“i love you, y’know.”
Dallas Winston
“you’ll be fine.”
“i feel like ‘m bleedin’ out.”
dallas complained as he sat on your couch, his legs spread so that you could properly stand between them. you continued to dab the wet cloth against his cheek to get the dried blood off.
there seemed to be just as much of dried blood as there was fresh, his arms and hands coverer in gauze and bandaids.
you gently held his chin to turn his head every which way you needed, because he allowed you to. he liked you so much, he allowed you to move him around like a doll.
though, he liked slyvia a lot, too and she couldn’t do stuff like that. stuff like this with slyvia was weird, even if he did like her.
so, why was it different with you? what made you, of all people, so special?
his eyes were locked onto yours, taking extra note to how focused you look on cleaning his face up. you were pretty. like, real pretty.
dallas was quick to avert his eyes when he realized just how sappy his internal monologue sounded.
“what?”
you asked, taking note to how hyper-aware dallas suddenly looked. his jaw was clenched slightly as he seemingly refused to look at you.
how you always knew when something was up with him, he may never know.
“nothin’. the cuts jus’ hurt,”
he lied right out of his teeth.
dallas’ eyes met yours once more, trying to act tough once again. he asked himself once more, what made you so different?
“are you sure?”
you dropped the wet cloth slightly, the rag no longer against his cheek. you looked worried, and you sounded just as nervous.
you cared.
you cared for dallas winston. that’s what made you different.
dallas knew you were different from his other flings.
he liked his other flings. he loved you. he loved that you cared for him, genuinely.
he extended his hands out, grabbing your waist to pull you closer with a firm tug, your knee supporting you up as it was pressed against the edge of the couch.
“oh, ‘m real sure, pretty.”
“dally, please.”
“please, what?”
“don’t start with me now, winston.”
Ponyboy Curtis
you were golden.
completely and utterly golden. the sunset reflected off your skin like you were an angel, your eyes shimmering like the stars above, the flush across your face making you look beyond innocent.
ponyboy was the one to drag you out into the cold oklahoma winter in the first place. he just wanted to watch the sunset with you, the person he liked.
he protested against your arguments of, ‘it’s so cold out, though! it’s so warm inside, pony. don’t make me go out there!’ with, ‘it’s just a sunset. it’ll be for a few minutes! i jus’ wanna watch it with you. please, y/n?’
‘watch the sunset,’ his ass. he looked at the setting sun maybe twice in the span of 3 minutes. you were too beautiful to not look at.
of course, and thankfully, you were oblivious to his staring.
“it’s really pretty,”
you muttered. your eyes were locked onto the horizon, and his were locked onto his future.
his future.
the more he thought about it, he really liked you. like, to the point where whenever he envisioned a mile stone in his life, you were always there.
when he imagined graduating, you’d be there. when he imagined going to college, you’d be there. when he imagined getting married, you’d be standing at the alter with him.
he loved his future.
he loved you.
“real pretty.”
ponyboy agreed, but for a different reason.
Sodapop Curtis
the moonlight seeped through the curtains of his room, illuminating the lines that it managed to sneak it’s way through. the midnight sky was bright, yet the moon seemed to be the only focus for the stars.
soda held you in his arms loosely, your head resting gently on his chest. he traced imaginary shapes on the lower part of your back.
the sound of his fan whirling rang out through his room, your breathing falling into a rhythm as you drifted off to sleep.
soda always seemed to notice when you were about to fall asleep, and you didn’t know how he did. you were starting to suspect he might be a wizard.
he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, letting his lips linger there for a moment.
his life was hectic. it really was. he was a dropout who works a full time job to help his older brother keep a roof over their head, and he worked as a middle man in arguments.
but you, you were a breath of fresh air.
he needed you like he needed water.
he needs you.
he loves needing something, and he loves needing you.
he loves you. soda loves you so, so, so much.
“good night, baby. i love you.”
Darry Curtis
“oh, y/n,”
darry sighed as he entered the kitchen. the smell of freshly cooked dinner wafted through the air, leaving a comforting taste in everyone’s mouth.
he walked up behind you, your back turned to him as your focus was on scrubbing the last bit of dishes. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling himself closer to you as if he needed to be as close as possible.
he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes looking down at your hands in the sink. you turned your head to look back at him, your faces a mere centimetres away.
you couldn’t necessarily help the smile that tugged on the corners of your lips at seeing darry look so grateful.
darry was a busy, hardworking man. that's who he was, and who he will always be as long as he lives. he provides with no one to provide for him.
until you came into the photo.
darry was cooking dinner out of fear that soda'd burn the roasted potatoes he said he'd make, and ponyboy was just..not that good with anything other than eggs.
he was cooking, cleaning, and working. he had no time to himself, it seemed. but you, the angel you are, takes it off his hands. maybe it was to just have him all to yourself after work, he didn’t care.
you were the angel that he prayed for day and night.
and god knows how darry loves angels.
you ruffed his hair, not bothering to dry off the water that stuck to your skin. darry chuckled, lightly shaking his head in a poor attempt to dry his loose curls.
in his own retaliation, he pulls you impossibly close, attacking your face with as many kisses he could. giggles filled the room as you attempted to push yourself away from him, only for his grip to tighten.
he pulled away at his expense, pressing one last kiss on the crown of your head.
“love you, doll. i really do,”
Steve Randle
“you’re always welcomed here, steve. you know that,”
you lightly scolded him as he sat on the edge of your bed. he’d been couch hopping before he came to you, a broken and embarrassed man.
you were rummaging around in your closest for another old blanket he could use, since from prior experience, you learned that steve has a tendency to hog the blanket you two shared.
“i know, i know.”
he begrudgingly grumbled, hurriedly avoiding eye contact with you with his head down, looking at his hands on his lap.
you looked over your shoulder, seeing just how embarrassed he looked asking for help tugged on your heart strings a little.
steve was never one to ask for help, no. he thought he was too prideful, too good, for help. he thought that he was superman with the way he thought he could help himself 24/7.
you sighed, taking a few steps toward him. you squatted down in front of him, lightly grabbing his hand and holding in it yours. he finally looked back at you with lowered brows, his eyes making him look way more innocent than he actually is.
“i hope you aren’t lying to me.”
“what?”
“do you actually know that i’m always here for you, or are you sayin’ that to shut me up?”
you questioned, allowing yourself to be straightforward since it seemed like that was the only language he knew.
steve shifted his eyes away from yours for a moment, a small huff leaving his lips.
“maybe.”
“steve,”
you started, the disappointment emanate in your tone. you stood up, letting go of his rough hand to cup his face. you forced him to look back at you.
“you know you aren’t ever a burden. i love having you around. i love you, okay? i wouldn’t ever push you away.”
you stated in the most soothing voice you could muster, looking him right in the eyes to really drive your point forward.
steve took awhile to react. he just looked back at you, letting your words process in his head. after a moment, he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you close.
he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his breaths coming out shaky as he tried to calm himself.
he loved home, he really did.
and, look, steve isn’t stupid. he’s heard and understood the saying that, ‘home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.’ but he always thought it was stupid.
how do you feel at home?
well, now he gets it.
with you in his arms, you comforting him and talking to him like he was a human, and he’s never felt more at home.
and holy shit, he loves this feeling.
“love you. love you so, so, so much.”
Two-Bit Mathews
laughter rang out through your empty living room, the television being completely drowned out.
you gasped for more air as you and two-bit laughed at an inside joke that seemed to only make sense to you two. you hand your hand on his shoulder, the other on your stomach. two-bit was leaning toward you unconsciously.
“holy hell, two-bit! that’s so messed up!”
you feigned innocence, pretending like you didn’t play into the jokes that slipped off his tongue.
“well, shit! then i guess we’re both messed up since you were jus’ talkin’ about-“
“hey, wait!”
you were quick to cut him off, leaning toward him to cover his mouth with your hand.
“don’t go snitchin’ on me!”
two-bit snickered to the best of his ability, grabbing your wrist lightly to pull you toward him closer. you stumbled toward him, two-bit catching you by putting his hands firmly on your hips.
looking back at you with a sloppy smile across your face, your eyes having a certain mischievous shine to them made it hard for two-bit to look away.
you were so beautiful when you were happy. you were always beautiful.
how someone like you was able to understand his type of humour is beyond him. he just knows that he’s lucky, and that he’d be a fool to let you slip through his fingers.
he didn’t want to lose this moment, ever.
he loved moments like this.
though, he only ever experienced these moments with you. so, is it weird to say that he only loves moments that involve you? does that mean something?
The greaser gang thinking reader cheated after seeing a hickey on her neck, and it results in the big argument
(it's a burn mark from a curling iron)
“THATS A WHAT—”
The gang thinks you’re pulling their fucking leg but you know damn well that it was just a curling iron. Somehow some of them just don’t believe it until you show ‘em what happened.
PONYBOY:
- it was a normal day. Everything was going well… until he saw it…
- now Ponyboy’s mind goes runnin’ wild. He notices it and his chest tightens immediately.
- I’d like to think he kinda spirals.
- he would start asking weird and indirect questions like:
“Have you been… seeing anyone…?”
- now this is when the argument starts and lemme tell you emotional and messy.
- he then says something he regrets almost instantly:
“I just don’t wanna be stupid.”
- when you finally get to explain, he looks devastated—not relieved…
“I didn’t want to believe it… but I thought maybe…”
- he then apologizes in the most comfortable way he can be; writing letters.
- saying out loud feels too heavy for him.
JOHNNY:
- Johnnycake notices the mark and immediately starts thinking the worst about himself, nah, not you. But him.
- Johnny thinks that you went ahead and cheated because he wasn’t good enough for you. He had always thought he wasn’t good enough for you because that’s how Johnny processed it but he still loves you with all his heart.
- he doesn’t exactly confront you about it right away—he withdraws.
- oh but when the argument happens, it’s quiet but heartbreaking…
“If you wanted someone else, you could’ve told me…”
- but when you snap back at him saying it’s a burn from a curling iron, his whole fucking face drains of color.
- he’s mortified to say the least.
- he apologizes over and over and over again.
“I didn’t mean—I just got scared…”
- after that, he never doubts you like that ever again.
DALLY:
- oh when Winston sees the mark, it’s fucking instant reaction.
- anger first. Sharp. Ugly.
“Who the hell did that?”
- he accuses you outright and it’s harsh…
- then the argument explodes and I mean EXPLODES.
- he’ll say something cruel that he can’t easily take back.
“So you’re whoring around now? Two-timin’ lil broad. All of y’all are the same.”
- when you throw the curling iron on the table and yell, “I burned myself asshole!”
- then, silence…
- he goes absolutely fucking still after that.
- the guilt hits him like a punch to the ribs.
- he apologizes in the only way he knows how—quiet, rough, holding your face like he’s grounding himself.
“I don’t like the idea of losing you, doll. Makes me stupid…”
- needless to say, his past trauma with his ex, Sylvia, all came back to the surface for a split second as he saw that mark on your neck. But you two were good in the end.
SODAPOP:
- Soda sees it and goes absolutely fucking quiet.
- Too quiet. Deathly quiet. (Oh damn…)
- He tries to joke at first, but it doesn’t land too well.
“That… new?”
- When you don’t answer fast enough, his smile fades.
- He doesn’t yell—he looks hurt.
“Just tell me the truth.”
- The argument breaks him more than it breaks you.
- He hates that he even thought it.
- When you show him the curling iron and explain, he looks sick to his fucking stomach.
“I didn’t mean—I just—”
“It’s okay, Soda…”
- He spends the rest of the night apologizing and holding you like he’s scared you’ll leave. Try not to do that to sweet Sodapop again, I keep tellin’ ya…
STEVE:
- Steve’s reaction is sharp and defensive.
“You expect me not to notice this bullshit right in front of me?”
- He’s sarcastic at first, masking insecurity. He’ll hide that shit pretty good but pretty bad at the same time.
- The argument gets heated fast.
- He accuses. You snap back harder.
- When you explain and show him proof, he freezes.
- Realizes he just accused you of the worst thing possible. Which hurt Randle.
“Shit… I messed up.”
- He spends the next few days trying to make it up to you in small, awkward ways. He takes you to the DX more, buys you more of your favorite sodas, small cute stuff like that.
TWO-BIT:
- Two-Bit jokes at first—but it’s forced.
“Damn, didn’t know you were gettin’ popular.”
- You snap immediately.
- The argument turns serious fast.
- He accuses you, then hates himself for it.
- When you explain, his face falls.
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
- He apologizes with humor turned inward instead of at you.
“Guess I’m the idiot this time.”
“I guess so. But I still love you anyways.”
DARRY:
- Darry notices the mark immediately. His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing—not angry yet, just… guarded. Really fucking guarded.
- He doesn’t accuse you outright at first. He asks questions that feel like tests. He just wants to make sure…
“Where’d that come from?”
- When you get defensive instead of explaining, it flips something in him.
“Don’t lie to me.”
- The argument turns sharp. Controlled, but cutting.
- He says something like, “I give everything for this relationship—so don’t insult me.”
- When you finally snap and yell that it’s a burn, he freezes.
- Guilt hits him hard.
- He apologizes immediately—but it’s heavy, serious.
“I should’ve trusted you before I trusted my damn fear.”
You Baby The Boys!! (Greasers x Reader) (HEADCANONS)
Notes: HIIIIIIII SO GLAD TO HEAR YOU LOVE MY POSTS!!! Anyway enjoy!!!!!! Kinda love it
Darrel Curtis: He's always been expected to be tough or generally stereotypically manly thanks to it being the 60s and his height and muscular build, he won't lie he feels like a big big idiot when you start talking all sweet at him. But he gets used to it, he's real fond of it actually. It's a nice change
Dallas Winston: You doing that is like taking the risk of picking up the angriest stray cat you can find in an alley and hoping you won't get bit or scratched, it's a gamble with Dallas though. You just have to get closer with him before you try to pull anything of the sort on him, otherwise it's over for you because he's a hater like that (rip Dallas you would love the block button)
Johnny Cade: He likes the softness, he thought couples were naturally rough. He thought it was normal for them to hit each other and get mad for no reason and walk on eggshells around each other, until he met you. Then he realized how it definitely wasn't normal, in fact the way you treated him should be normal for couples
Ponyboy Curtis: He's kinda babied by Soda and Darrel as is but when you decide to go give him maybe ten times that he can't help but be absolutely enthralled with you, how could you be sweet enough you managed that? Honestly I think it cools his sassy attitude down by a little which is more of a shock to the whole gang over anything
Sodapop Curtis: Okay, he's a real sweetheart so it's kinda a battle of who can be even gentler and funny things like that, the pitches in both of your voices when speaking to each other get constantly higher thanks to it. Two-Bit likes to call you the pair of dog whistles, which despite being dumb always amused you
Steve Randle: He's so not used to it, he gets all squirmy about it- well not outright 'squirmy' but you always watch him tense and have to get him slowly used to someone treating him with complete softness the way you tend to. It's kinda perfect watching him get used to it though, you always feel better when you see him soften
Two-Bit Mathews: He's laughing or joking about how he landed with such a sweetheart to deflect from the fact he'd never really had that gentleness, a bit like Darry he feels like a big fumbling idiot when you treat him like he's not 6 foot and stocky. I think he basks in the attention a little more though, if you wanna treat him nice.. hell he's not all to mad about it!
summary: when an old date comes looking for you, it causes ruckus in a house full of boys, whether that's because they're your family or because they're friends who like you more than just that, who knows?
wc: 1.4k
The door slams shut almost as soon as it opens, leaving the boy standing on its other side stunned.
“Who’s at the door?” Darry calls out, and you decide that no answer is better than a poor excuse that would have the gang onto you in seconds. The door creeks as you open it once more, inhaling deeply before tiptoeing outside to greet the man holding a bouquet of flowers for you.
“Hey.” You breathe out, shaking your head when he extends the bouquet towards you. “What’s going on?”
He frowns, blinking quickly as he says “I had a really good time with you on our date the other day, and I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend.”
“Oh. Look, that’s really sweet of you Matt, but you shouldn’t have come here. If my brothers see you, all hell will break loose.” You explain, pointedly ignoring answering his question. “Oh, alright,” He says, taking a couple steps back and dropping the bouquet by his side. “Well, what about being my girlfriend?”
You internally cuss yourself out when you pause to think of an answer for him, but unfortunately for you, you’re interrupted by an even bigger inconvenience. The door jerks open behind you, and it’s only when you see Matt cower in front of you, shrinking in on himself, that you know exactly who is looming behind you. “What’s goin’ on here?” Darry asks, arms crossed over his chest as he frowns. Matt immediately hides the bouquet behind his back, and you sigh, knowing that an interrogation is going to follow you around for the next hour.
“Nothing, Darry, he was just leaving.” You tell him, turning to face your older brother and trying to go inside. Darry’s hand slams against the doorway, blocking your entrance, and your eyes go wide in surprise.
“Darry,” You begin, voice quiet so Matt doesn’t hear. “Please trust me on this.” You see Darry’s posture soften, nodding to yourself when he moves aside so you can make your way inside. He stands there for a moment longer to glare at the terrified boy before following you inside and slamming the door behind him.
“You got a boyfriend I should know about?” Any softness Darry had shown for you just moments ago disappears as he’s hit with the thought of his younger sister going out with a boy.
“No, I don’t. You actually just saved him from a rejection.”
“A rejection!?” Dally’s voice barges in, and there’s a scuffle in the living room as the boys all rush to get a look at Matt through the window. “You went out with that kid?” Two-bit asks, and you put your hands on your hips as you reply “He’s not a kid, he’s my age.”
“So a kid.” Dally shoots again, despite only being months older than you. You hum disapprovingly, glancing around the room to see if anyone has more comments to make. Luckily, no one looks like they have anything to say, Steve and Sodapop too busy playing a game of cards to care about any more of your rendezvous than they already know about. Two-Bit, however, despite having his lips tightly pressed together, is cradling his beer with a tighter hold than usual, eyes trained directly in front of him in an attempt not to look at you. You shift your weight from one foot to another, biting the inside of your cheek.
For months, there’s been a weird, unspoken thing between the two of you. It started not long after Sodapop and Steve dropped out, leaving you and Two-Bit to be the last of your group in school. You stuck together like two pieces of tape that weren’t supposed to come in contact, but now that you’ve graduated, you don’t get as much time alone. So he makes the most of it. He always makes the most of the brief moments you’re alone together, cracking a joke that he knows will make you laugh and touching you in a way that just about crosses the line from friendly. You do it too, asking him for a sip of his beer that you hate so much just to fluster him, or asking his advice on situations you’d usually go to Sodapop for.
And yet, nothing has happened.
He was the reason you decided to take up Matt’s offer of a date, but he only teased you at the news, leaning on your doorway while watching you put on a nice dress for someone you didn’t care about. He didn’t need to know that last bit though.
You clear your throat uncomfortably, mumbling quietly “I think it’s my turn to do the dishes.” Sodapop glances up from his game of cards, hoping you don’t check the chore chart on the fridge as you walk into the kitchen. Lathering the sponge with dish soap, you swallow up all of your feelings. Only a week ago, you had been so sure that Two-Bit liked you, and even worse than that, you had been convinced that he would tell you how he felt about you. But now here you were, boyfriendless and washing dishes when you should be out partying with your friends and kissing boys in dark bars.
“Hey, you got a tweezer I can use?” You jump up at the close voice, dropping a plate into the sink and flinching hard at the noise it makes while silently hoping the glass stays intact. “I think I got a splinter in my finger.” You spin around to stare back at Keith, hands still soapy as you hold them out over the floor with your palms up to stop the soap from dripping to the floor. You nod twice, muttering “Yeah, hold on.”
It’s deafeningly quiet as you wash your hands off, and you pat them dry on your jeans as you lead Two-Bit down the hallway. Two-Bit silently follows you into your room, and whilst Darry usually lets the boys into your room, his eyes catch on the two of you, and he considers telling Keith to get out of there. Instead, Darry watches as Keith hesitantly sits on the edge of your bed, adam’s apple bobbing in this throat when he swallows thickly. You approach the boy with a pair of silver tweezers in your hand, and Keith lifts his hand up for you, his breath hitching when you hold it in yours and move it around to spot the little brown splinter stuck between his skin.
“I’m sorry.”
You glance up at Two-Bit’s words, blinking in surprise. “About your date.” He clarifies, then adds “About not telling you how I feel before you get involved with someone.” You inhale deeply, returning your gaze to his hand, squinting your eyes to find his splinter.
“I don’t have a splinter.” Two-Bit admits, and you freeze on the spot before straightening up. “And that’s why you’re the only one of those boys who graduated.” You joke, settling the tweezers on your bedside table. “Yeah? That the only reason?” Two-Bit questions with a smirk, and you cross your arms over your chest as a smile breaks out onto your face. Two-Bit leans forward, hooking his hands around the back of your legs and gently tugging you forward. Your smile turns shy at his touch, and though he still smiles up at you, his expression softens.
“I’m a smart guy, you know?” He says, and you nod, mumbling “I know.”
“Yeah, and not just in the way that let me graduate high school.” He says, and you feel your cheeks go hot. “I know you like me, but I’ve been too stupid to do something about it.”
“Is this you trying to do something about it Keith?” You ask quietly, staring into the boy’s eyes. He doesn’t answer, only brings a hand up to the back of your neck to lower your face down onto his. He straightens up to meet your lips, and you instantly melt against each other when your lips make contact. You bring a knee down onto your mattress, lowering your body so you can kiss Two-Bit better, and he parts his lips slightly, kissing you with as much passion as he can muster.
And just as you pull away from him, lips still touching but with matching smiles, it gets ruined.
“Keith, you better get your filthy hands off my sister!”
could u do darry x reader, where they’re lowk like megara and hercules.
(i saw someone mention it applying to them once and now i can’t stop thinking about it)
like reader’s this independent woman figure, who has this soft spot for darry. darry’s just a sap when it comes to her, he try’s to impress her and stuff like that.
idk i thought this was cute, please and thank you !!
Damsel in Distress | D.C.
summary: aka darry believing you’re a classic D.I.D.—Damsel in Distress.
pairing: darrel ‘darry’ curtis x fem!reader
includes: fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, darry being a whipped mess when it comes to independent women, ponyboy being a matchmaker
a/n: i live for this, heheheh
Darrel parked his truck right outside of the oh-so familiar high school that brought him so many memories—good and bad. This time, he wasn't here for a football game or a quick practice, but for his kid-brother's parent-teacher conferences. He remembered their parents dragging him into the school for his own conferences, a guilty look on his face every time a teacher would tell them his grades were slipping a little too far from the passing line.
He shook his head free from old memories and looked over at Ponyboy as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Most teachers praised him for his brains and it made Darrel feel like he was actually doing something right for once.
"You alright, kid?" Darrel put a hand on his shoulder and snapped Ponyboy out of a small trance, earning a quick nod. "You don't needa come if you don't wanna. You can stay in the truck."
"No, I want to." Ponyboy nodded. "Besides, I want to be there when you meet the new teacher."
Darrel raised a brow and caught the tiniest smirk on his brother's face, "You ought to stop hanging out with Dally sometimes."
Ponyboy shrugged and hopped out of the car, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I'm just saying, you might actually like her. She seems exactly like your type."
"And what exactly is my type, Pony?" Darrel glanced at him in amusement and wrapped an arm around him, chuckling when Ponyboy groaned and pushed him off. "Aw, don't be like—"
Before Darrel could finish his sentence, a voice cut through the air—loud and clear. Both Curtis men looked over at the entrance of the school, catching a couple of soc boys getting scolded by a teacher.
A teacher Darrel had never seen before.
He assumed he knew all teachers at the high school. After all, he was there not too long ago. But you were definitely a new face. One he couldn’t look away from.
"Boys! You cannot be doing this during conferences!"
You crossed your arms and looked at them in disappointment, ready for their complaints. Almost as if you queued them, the boys began to whine like children, arguing with you about having nothing to do while their parents were inside with their teachers. You simply nodded and listened, although they pulled this routine every time they were caught.
Ponyboy grinned and turned to his brother to tell him that you were the teacher he was talking about when he found Darrel already missing from his spot beside him. Ponyboy creased his brows in confusion before he heard Darrel's tenor voice from where you stood.
"I'm sorry, do we have a problem here?" He looked down at the boys, brow raised expectantly like a father scolding his children for being disruptive.
Your lips parted—almost offended that this... man came over to defend you. You were no need for defending at all. Did you look like a damsel in distress? You had everything sorted out already when he came over. I’m fact, he just made things worse, really.
"I'm sorry—who are you?"
Your question was left on heard as the boys started their complaints from the beginning, this time toward the man who simply strolled into your conversation. You rolled your eyes and stepped back, hand to your chest when you stumbled back into someone.
You whipped around and relaxed when you saw it was only one of your students. "Hey, Ponyboy. Are you here for your parent-teacher conferences?"
He nodded, "I tagged along with my brother."
You smiled at the thought of finally meeting the infamous eldest brother Ponyboy rarely spoke about before pausing, looking back toward the man who seemed to be telling your students off now. "That doesn't happen to be Superman over there, is it?"
"Oh, it is." Ponyboy grinned almost maliciously, making you sigh and look away from the scene in front of you.
"Unbelievable." You murmured and picked at your nails. mentally cursing yourself when you picked at a hangnail.
You had to admit, you were… attracted to Ponyboy’s brother. Maybe more visually than emotionally, but his looks definitely boosted the appeal and you were yet to talk to him properly.
So… Just maybe.
It was about another minute or so of Darrel reprimanding the three boys before he returned to his brother, eyes slightly widening when he found you talking quietly with Ponyboy about god knows what.
Darrel cleared his throat and gained your attention, his voice higher than Ponyboy had ever heard it. "Hopefully those boys won't give you anymore trouble, Miss, uh—"
"Y/N. My students and their... parents call me Miss Jones." You ignore his outstretched hand and pull your hair back away from one side of your head, frowning at the split-ends before looking back up. "So, do you have a name? Or should I continue to wonder what Ponyboy's jacked brother is called?"
"Well uh, I'm, um, uh—" Darrel stuttered with a red face when you acknowledged him with a name he wasn’t expecting, his sweaty hands wiping at his jeans.
Ponyboy snorted at the sight. It was absolute gold to see his older brother so hot and bothered by a woman—especially when he’s been wanting to set Darrel up with you for so long.
"Are you always that—" You looked at him up and down, brow raised expectantly. "—Articulate?"
When he didn’t respond, you turned to leave causing Ponyboy to nudge his brother in the stomach. He would be damned to see his brother fumble over one little interaction—the introduction of names to be more precise.
"Darrel. My—" He cleared his throat, voice no longer as high as it was earlier. He scratched the back of his neck before you spun back around to face him, "My name is Darrel. Darry for short."
You hummed and stared at him for a second, eyes searching his face for anything that might be an outlier in such a perfect figure. "Darry, huh?"
He nodded almost mindlessly as you repeated his name. You were so… beautiful and he couldn’t believe you were standing before him. It made him question how much time he spent with the boys sometimes if he couldn’t handle a simple interaction.
To be fair, he thought you were the best thing that ever happened to him today.
You gave him one last proper look, eyes meeting his blue-green ones. "I think I prefer Superman."
Ponyboy grinned at how fast Darrel burned bright red, knowing that nickname from a woman meant something else compared to when any of the boys called him that.
"So, uh, what'd those boys for you to, you know, scold them like that?" Darrel asked, tucking his hands under his arms to stop them from moving so frantically.
You sigh and wave a dismissive hand, "You know how fourteen-year-olds are. If they can't bother someone, they have to wreck havoc somewhere else." You look at Ponyboy, a cheeky smile displayed on your lips. "Pones here can explain it to you later."
Ponyboy's sneaky grin instantly dropped into a frown, causing you to hold back your laughter.
"Anyway, I gotta go and tend to the rest of my students and their parents." You say and dust your hands, "Thanks for everything, Darry. It's been a real, slice."
You saluted him with a flourish and turn to head back into the building. But before you could pull the door open, his voice lulled you back, the question making your heart ache in slight disbelief.
"Wait!" Darrel called out, causing Ponyboy to look over at him in surprise. "Don't you think you need help with wrangling all those kids?"
You huff as your hand tightened around the handle, a small smile decorating your face at how this man was trying to desperately impress you by proving how capable he was. And maybe—just maybe—it was a working a little on you.
You spin back around and put your hands on your hips, eyes wide in a playful manner. "I'll be alright. I'm a tough girl."
He tilts his head and grins at you, unknowing that his face was as red as the cherries on Ponyboy’s sundaes. Funnily enough, your face was also as red as his, sending him a smile that Darrel swore gave him a toothache.
"I'll see you two in my classroom in a few." You say quietly and nod your head toward him.
As you turned away to enter the school, you felt your face warm, putting the back of your hands to your face to cool yourself off. God, you were going to kill Ponyboy for having a brother that could instantly tarnish your reputation as the only teacher who could calm down any argument between the socs and greasers during lunch.
Both Darrel and Ponyboy watched you leave, this time, Ponyboy snapped his fingers in front of his older brother's face. If Ponyboy had to describe the way his brother looked like right now, it would be whipped.
"She's definitely something..." Darrel trailed off, rubbing the bottom of his jaw in awe.
"That's the teacher I wanted you to meet, Darry." Ponyboy shook his head in amusement. "I'll take it that you like her."
"Shut up, Ponyboy." He pushed his brother into the school and did his best to stop his face from reddening any more than it already was.
It was going to be a long parent-teacher conference with you.
can you do a curtis sister imagine (older than pony younger than soda) and she is stunning and all the boys at school are obsessed with her and always talking to her and asking her out and the gang hates it because shes their baby!!
Summary: The gang sees you get hit on
Warnings: none
Authors note: none
Everything about you exuded beauty, the way you smiled and how you hair fell about your shoulder. You were, perhaps, seen as the prettiest girl in your school, and while you could flaunt it, you preferred being humble about it.
The sun beat down on your face, illuminating your soft lines and plump lips. You peered down the street to watch for oncoming cars, the gang following in stringing clusters behind you.
It was the first week of summer break, and Darry decided to take you all to a small beach village as a nice vacation and because the weather was so nice.
You shielded your eyes from the bright sunlight and crossed the open road to the pier that overlooked the sea. You could hear the waves crash against the rocks and the hoots and holler of the gang. A blond boy stepped up to you, eyes squinted because of the sun. He smiled at you, his freckled cheeks dusted with a pink blush.
"Hello?" You smiled, shining like a pearl.
"Hello," He smiled back, "You from around here?"
Your lips drew back into a thin line, annoyed at the attempt.
"No," You stated plainly, turning back to the sea. The gang filed in behind you, watching the young boy with a mixture of emotions but none, you could sense, we're good.
"Well, I could introduce you to the place," He gestured out to the village and you shook your head.
"Not interested, thank you," You said, and Soda patted your shoulder.
"You sure? I'm pretty well-versed in this area," He smiled again.
"Kid, she said no, beat it," Dallas said, lighting a cancer stick and letting the smoke curl in the sea breeze.
"Yeah man, back off my sister," Sodapop clicked his tongue I'm annoyance.
"Chill man," the boy raised his hands in surrender before walking away.
"This girl gets hit on everywhere we go," Two Bit remarked, lazily looking out over to the sea.
"Yeah, it's really annoying" Ponyboy grumbled. You laughed lightheartedly and continued walking down the pier.
"Hey, if a guy every bothers you like that again, come tell me, alright?" Darry patted your shoulder.
"See, I wouldn't mind getting hit on like Y/n" Steve said, taking off his obnoxious sunglasses that he swore made him "look cool".
"I would," Johnny remarked, walking alongside you.
"I mind when it's my damn sister getting hit on," Sodapop adjusted his hat, the coastal winds ruffling his hair.
"Oh please, it's fine," You shook your head and laughed.
"Seriously, kid, if someone bothers you like that, you come tell us" Two Bit looked you in the eye, his serious face catching slightly off guard.
Idk if you’re doing requests but I need someone to write head canons for the greasers being sub and into dry humping please 🙏🙏🙏🙏 Maybe even one shots/drabbles? I would love for you to write this but If you don’t want to, it’s Ok! I respect that! Anyways have a good day xx
Fuck yeah! I live for submissive men, give me a moment!!
Darrel Shaynne Curtis:
Let's get one thing out of the way, this man is hardly submissive but he wants to be. He's all tough and mean on the outside because he's the older brother and works almost 24/7, he's going to need some time for someone else to take care of him from time to time given that he's a young man and that he also does like being on top.
He's a whiney sub but he really tries not to be. If you're just making out while sitting on his lap or he's sitting on yours, he's going to end up grinding on your thigh and whimpering in your ear.
When it comes to dry humping with a subby! Darry, he's really sensitive. He's good at controlling his climax when he's on top but when he's on bottom and is humping against you, he's so so sensitive.
Praise him, praise this man. He needs it, he craves that validation from you. Tell him he's a good boy and he's having to bit his lips to keep himself from cumming on the spot. He's got a praise kink through and through.
8/10 because HOLY FUCK, he's a damn good sub but -2 points because it's rare to get that kind of Darry most nights.
Keith "Two-bit" Mathews:
He's a brat. Don't listen to anything else, this man is a slutty, bratty pillow prince. He doesn't care what you do. Degrade him, praise him. It doesn't matter because he will cum all the same.
When it comes to dry humping, he's not picky. If you're at a drive in and sitting in a car, he's going to get on your lap while making out and start humping your thigh (With permission of course, he's a brat but not a monster.)
When you two are together and getting intimate with him on bottom, he tried to power bottom but it doesn't work out in his favor. He'll degrade you but to fix that, just fuck with his chest a little bit while he's being bratty and he'll sort himself out.
While he is a pillow prince, he'll repay the favor after he's been overstimmulated to hell and back.
6/10 because you're getting bossed around while fucking. It was going to be 7/10 but -1 point because he's mean about it.
Dallas "Dally" Winston:
Not really bratty, not really whiney... He's somewhere in between emotional because Dally doesn't do vulnerablilty unless he's comfortable with you, and even then, it's rare that he is.
When he subs, he's going to try and control what he can because he doesn't want to let go of that control.
When Dally is dry humping, he's not shy about it. He wouldn't do it in public, fuck no, but if you're in your own space, he's not shy about rutting his hips against your thigh while kissing you.
When dry humping, Dally is slow about it, trying to keep this going as long as possible without getting too worked up. He likes to have his pleasure and moments of vulnerability with you. And yes, you could probably get him to cry as he does try and overstimulate himself often in the sub space.
9/10. He's great to dom and take care of with. Just be sure to treat him right.
Steve Randle:
This man doesn't sub. He just doesn't. The most you'll get out of him is him being a power bottom. My apologies.
He'll dry hump you while making out though, grinding up against you while your lip locked in private.
3/10 because he's no sub.
Sodapop Patrick Curtis:
Sodapop is a switch, try to tell me otherwise. You get Dom Sodapop just as much as you get Sub Sodapop. He's generally a quiet sub mainly because he's biting and sucking on your neck the whole time.
When you're topping Sodapop, he's easy going. If you're making out on a night that he's subbing, he's going to grind against you with a lip sucked between his teeth to keep quiet.
Sodapop can be loud, he doesn't sit still. When he's subbing, you're going to need to restrain him (do it, he doesn't mind it at all. It adds to the experience for him).
He's sensitive. Don't get me wrong, when he tops, his pleasure takes a back seat. He can hold out, he cums last, but when he subs and it's about his pleasure? Oh it's over.
10/10 would sub again.
Johnny Cade:
Johnny is always the sub in this relationship unless he suddenly feels jealous. So when Johnny subs, it's another regular tuesday.
He's soft, but communicative. When he wants to be, he can get loud. Like if he's grinding against you, skin to skin, and you're praising him? Calling him a good boy? The whole east side is fucking hearing you. I don't make the rules.
You cannot get him to do anything public. You just can't. He is the oppsite of Two-bit, he won't do it. Speaking of not like two bit, he's also not a brat.
Praise kink. He has a praise kink. Call him a good boy while he's grinding against you and I swear he will grin at you.
10/10. Is Johnny inexperienced? Yes. Does that matter at all? No.
Ponyboy Michael Curtis:
No
Nope
Nada
Nein
He's younger than me while the rest of these characters are either the same age or older than me. No.
