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18caramel · 3 months

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First kiss (purly)

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝

Warnings: drug mention Word count: 1185

"𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒𝓇."

A/N: hey, this is my first time posting on this blog that I'm dedicating to The Outsiders. What you are about to read is a part of my fanfiction on AO3 called "Bad Influence”. If you are interested in it, you can find me by my username @18caramel, or by clicking on the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53118478/chapters/134401192

P.S Ponyboy is 16

picture taken from pinterest :)

Pony stared at the ceiling.

Curly lay on a blanket with scratchy red patterns all over it, in a rugged bed, wasted. Mentally, Curly was far away, certainly not in someone else's room, and certainly not next to Ponyboy.

While Curly was relaxing after the nasty thing he took, young Curtis glanced back and forth at the window and mainly at the irritating streetlight that burned his eyes. He wanted to dim it. It gave him a fucking migraine.

He lay there thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days. He remembered how he had lied to his beloved brother, and Sodapop, though understanding and honest, would never let him leave his house again if he had found out that Ponyboy had nearly overdosed at Winston's party. Soda could never forgive him.

And Darry? They were really torturing him by not telling him about everything that had happened in the last few days. He was unaware of anything, and they all pretended everything was fine. They acted like drugs were non-existent and nobody suffered from them.

And Pony? He was the worst. He had once been a good boy, but now he was in bed with the dirtiest greaser, watching him get high.

Curly finally turned to face him, and all Ponyboy managed to see due to the lack of light was his smile. But not the smile that he used to show him. It was different. He never smiled like that before. It was the one that he hid from everyone.

It was as if Pony's heart had stopped. Curly was looking at him in his euphoric state like he would eat him up right at that exact moment.

But no, he didn't. Curly turned away, and Pony thought that he imagined everything. Maybe Curly wasn't interested in sitting there with Pony, maybe his friends were much cooler and got stoned with him, not like Pony, who acted like a kid by refusing the nasty things that Curly offered.

Suddenly, time froze. Curly squirmed and tossed around, and Pony felt him touch his hand. It all happened so fast that his heart raced, practically escaping from his chest.

"May I?" Curly asked, stroking his hand again and again, so calmly, so gently, that Ponyboy was about to lose his breath.

He hesitated for a second. Curly's eyes were wild, but calm and tired at the same time. Pony blinked and silently nodded.

His hand began to play a cruel game with Pony. Curly caressed it at first, his fingers running over his bare skin as if he stroked a kitten. Pony gritted his teeth, feeling his face turn red. Something was happening to his body, something that he already felt before just from the mere sight of Johnny.

Curly did not hesitate long and put his hand over his, barely applying any pressure. Pony bit his lip and regretted it because Curly's eyes glistened like those of a wild, hungry tiger when he saw him do it. He squeezed Pony's hand, who held his breath, desperately trying not to move. He didn't know what to do. Could he give it all to him? To that ruthless greaser?

Ponyboy didn't think he'd ever hold another guy's hand, wishing it would never end. But at the same time, he was ashamed, very ashamed. He was afraid of it. Afraid of his feelings.

What did Curly want? The one who laid in bed with him, dressed in his favorite black t-shirt that hugged his body so tight that anyone would turn around to check him out in the street. Had he washed it badly on purpose and let it shrink? Did he want Pony to notice?

Who else was looking? Ponyboy's euphoric state faded away. Maybe Curly didn't care about Pony, or maybe he liked girls, like the night when he spotted him dancing with one of them. No, that couldn't have been it. Pony peeked at their hands which made him lose his mind, no, Curly wanted this.

Pony thought that Curly needed a green light. He finally turned his hand so it would fall into Curly's and squeezed it so hard that Shepard almost got woken up from his trip. Curly smirked, and the next thing Pony thought was that he was under the influence of drugs himself. Curly scooted up in bed, crawling closer to Pony so that their heads were almost touching. Curly was stunningly handsome, with his thick, black strands of hair falling over his eyes and with his fucking T-shirt that slid up his waist, revealing his masculine, well build body.

That's it, Ponyboy thought. This was the end of it. He cussed to himself, he despised that awful scarlet blanket, the infuriating street light from the window. Pony was blaming everything but not himself. He didn't know, didn't know whether to give in to his lust. Should he give it all to Curly?

Pony glanced at him. It was as if he was gone. Curly was in another universe, in another dimension. He squeezed Ponyboy's hand and simultaneously placed his head on his shoulder. Curly's hair tickled Ponyboy's collarbone, no, he wasn't naked, it was just that his brother's t-shirt was too big on him. He sighed. Maybe Curly only wanted to be near someone. Maybe he felt alone.

Ponyboy's head slowly fell onto Curly's and his lips pressed against his curly hair. It seemed like he relished it, still squeezing his hand, their pulses beating in unison. This, this was it. Ponyboy's heart skipped a beat as if he had seen a ghost. Curly raised his head, and giving in to Shepard's teasing, Pony leaned in.

He felt Curly's breath on his lower lip, felt it over and over again, and thought it was all a dream. Maybe Pony was asleep? Or had that drug somehow gotten to him through the air? No, it was Curly, Curly Shepard, who didn't want to wait any longer and pressed his lips against Pony's.

It felt delicate as if he was kissing a rose petal. Pony closed his eyes, trying to forget his thoughts that screamed at him to stop. This wasn't right. It shouldn't be like this.

Curly's hand briefly traveled across his body and stopped behind Pony's head, gripping his hair and slowly moving his head closer to his. The kiss grew into something more than Ponyboy had imagined but without tongues involved.

It felt good that way. Pony was in his euphoric state again, thanks to the dark-haired hoodlum, who had no shame in doing what he did.

Somebody turn off that fucking light, Ponyboy begged in his head. It was getting in the way of everything. Pony wanted to melt into the bed, to disappear. But then again, he liked it.

Curly pulled away from his lips for a second, but Pony, forgetting his shyness, pecked his lips, not wanting to let go. It was stupid, he thought, but Curly warmly smiled and kissed him again and again.

There was no more room in Pony's jeans.

That's what you get for kissing that damn greaser.

A/N: thank u for reading! for a more in-depth story you can find it on AO3 "Bad Influence" by @18caramel, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53118478/chapters/134401192

#the outsiders #outsiders #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders ponyboy #ponyboy #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboyxcurly #purly #dallaswinston #curly shepard #the outsiders fanfiction #outsiders fanfiction

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lunatiqez · 9 months

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“DX STRANGER” — Sodapop Curtis.

PAIRING: Sodapop Curtis x Trans!FTM!Reader

GENRE: Soda clearly has a thing for R and R clearly has a thing for Soda so ermmmm romance

SUMMARY: After your old car breaks down by a DX in a town you aren’t from, you get some assistance from a cute guy

WORD COUNT: 0.8k

A/N: I HOPE I WROTE THIS GOOD ENOUGH !!! Reader is very obviously trans so umm yeah !! Not HUGE on the ending but o well,, requested by my flower anon and proofread by @mictodii !!!

TULSA WASN’T ON YOUR LIST OF PLACES to stop at, but here you are, sitting on the curb of a DX in the small town. You rub your temples in frustration, you knew you shouldn’t have taken that piece of shit.

Thankfully, it broke down right by the DX, so all you had to do was get a couple of guys to assist you with pushing the car.

You did the best you could to pull off to the side with your car sputtering and slowly dying, but in the end you got it mostly off the road.

You then walked across the street to the small building, greeting the men inside.

“Hey, guys,” you cleared your throat, hoping your voice wasn’t too high pitched.

“Hey, man.” Soda smiled at you and you felt as though a million fireworks went off in your heart. Not only because he called you “man,” but also because this guy was extremely handsome.

“My car broke down,” you said as you pointed behind your back. The two men looked past you and at your red mustang. “Think you can help me out?”

One of the guys, a man with a crooked tooth and a sleeveless denim jacket looks at the other man.

“Give us a second,” he says to you. You nod and look around awkwardly.

“I dunno, Soda. Look at ‘im. Look at his car, look at his goddamn outfit!” Steve argues quietly with Sodapop. He clearly thinks you’re one of the bad Soc’s, but, in reality, you’re quite the opposite.

“Steve, I’ve never seen him around here, maybe he’s just passing by?” Soda suggests. “And if he does end up being like the guys around here, we can take him on. There’s only one of him and there’s two of us.” Steve sighs and rolls his eyes, his way of telling Soda “whatever.”

“You know what happened to it?” Soda asks as he turns back around.

“Uh, no. It just kinda..broke down.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your khakis.

“Alright, well let’s go check it out, yeah?” He walks out from behind the counter, Steve following him.

You led them to your car and they popped open the hood.

As the men inspected the engine, you explained to them how you got the car and how old it was.

“It’s a piece of shit,” you sigh as you lean against the car door and cross your arms. “Got it from my dad, I dunno how old it really is, but it’s older than me, that’s for sure.”

“Oh wow,” Sodapop says response. After a few more minutes of inspection, Soda looks up at you and tells you what he found. “Okay, so, we’re pretty sure your car's engine just overheated, so this should be an easy fix. All you gotta do is add some antifreeze and wait thirty minutes to an hour or so.” Soda explains.

The handsome man then reaches out to shake your own, starting a real introduction.

“I’m Sodapop, by the way. Sodapop Curtis.” You were stunned to find out his name, and that was apparently visible in your facial expression. Soda chuckles.

“I know, I know. Unique name, huh? I got a brother named Ponyboy, too. Says it on his birth certificate and everything.”

“That’s— it’s a cool name! I just wasn’t expecting it. My name’s Y/N L/N.” You shake his hand.

“That’s a nice name!” He compliments you.

“Not nearly as cool as Sodapop, though.” You compliment him back. He gives you another bright smile.

“That there is Steve Randle.” Soda motions to the other guy, who is still prodding at your engine.

“Hey, you don’t look like you’re from around here? I mean.. I never seen you around.”

“I’m not,” you shrug. “I’m from a little town called Bixby.” Sodapop nods.

“I know about Bixby. What brings you here to Tulsa, huh?” You scoffed.

“Wasn't planning on stopping, I’ll tell you that much.” Soda chuckled and the two of you continued your conversation, Steve occasionally butting in with his own thoughts.

Around 30 minutes later, your car’s engine hadn’t yet cooled off, and it was getting dark.

“Are you gonna be alright driving in the dark?” Soda asks as he looks at the slowly setting sun.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You shrugged him off.

“No, no— I don’t think so. I think you should stay the night at my place. With my brothers and me.” You laughed aloud.

“You flirtin’ with me, Sodapop?” You asked him jokingly.

“Maybe I am…so what?” He flashes that adorable smile at you once again. Your mouth parts in surprise.

“Don’t get all surprised on me now, Y/N.” Soda says nonchalantly. “So do you wanna stay at my house tonight or not?”

“I mean— I guess, if you’ll have me.”

“I’d have you any day.”

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years

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Seven Minutes In Heaven

Pairing: Ponyboy x reader

Category: One-shot

Summary: You and Pony end up in a closet together while playing seven minutes in heaven. Turns out, it was exactly what Pony needed to work up the courage to make you his.

Warnings: Mild language

“This was such a bad idea.”

“We can leave before the time’s up.”

“And then never live it down?” You frowned as you gave a bad impersonation of Steve. “Ponyboy’s too chicken to spend seven minutes in heaven cause he’s scared of the dark.”

“Well if you don’t want to then I don’t care what they say.” Ponyboy’s breath was warm against your face, the two of you squished close in the closet surrounded by coats that smelled like moth balls.

“You don’t have to be so nice all the time, Pony.” You smiled, grateful that he couldn’t see your blush in the dark. “It’s just seven minutes. We’ll survive.”

Ponyboy was silent. You took that as consent to waiting it out, giving a sigh as you looked around. “I didn’t think your brother bothered with moth balls.”

“Darry’s weird like that.” Ponyboy startled as you pushed against him. “What’s wrong?” His hands slid around your waist.

“Something touched me.” You tried to look over your shoulder, the sensation of his hands far from lost on you. “Ugh, I hate the dark.”

“Wanna leave?”

“No.” A thought struck you. “Do you?”

Ponyboy shrugged. “Whatever you want.” His hands tightened around your waist, holding you securely against him.

You were blushing so hard you were certain he could see you glowing through the dark. You slid your hand up his chest slowly, hesitantly, waiting for him to tense or move away. When he did neither, you shifted closer, fingers brushing along his shoulder and up the side of his neck. “You smell really nice, Pony.”

“It’s probably the grease.”

You laughed, the sound soft and gentle as you touched his jaw. “Pony,” you bit your lip. “Can we-,”

Ponyboy cut you off with a kiss. You gasped and melted into it, closing your eyes, snaking your arms around his waist and pulling him closer. Ponyboy fumbled against you, breaking the kiss to press little kisses to your lips again and again, going back for another deep kiss. You giggled against his mouth before pressing against him, eyes closing as you gently took control of the kiss. Ponyboy made a noise of surprise, but before you could pull away he had his hand up in your hair and you lost the ability to think. You kissed him hard and deep, snaking your tongue along his bottom lip, trailing your hands up and down his back.

And then Darry yanked the closet door open. “What the hell?”

You and Ponyboy jerked away from each other as if burned, blinking against the light of the living room flooding in. The gang was going wild. War whoops and cat calls filled the air. You giggled and looked at Ponyboy who was tugging at his shirt and smoothing his hair back.

“Told you it would work!” Steve howled.

“You know you could have just asked them out instead of attacking them like some kind of ape.” Darry rolled his eyes with a grin.

You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Ponyboy looked at you as you interlocked your fingers with his, smiling as the gang let out another round of cheers. “Wanna go out with me?”

“Yeah, Pony. I’d love to.”

Fanfic Masterlist

#outsiders #the outsiders #outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders ponyboy #ponyboy #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy x you #ponyboy x y/n #outsiders fluff

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thebrotherscurtis · 10 months

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"Brother’s Day”

Links: A03. FF.net. Wattpad.

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns all characters.

Summary: Oneshot. Four reasons Darry thinks he is a lousy father to Pony.

I. You know fuck all about raising a teenage kid.

Small children tend to their toys better than you play parent, and sometimes the day-to-day questions torment you the most.

For the sixth morning in a row, Pony shovels a giant slice of cake on his plate. Should he really eat sweets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?

"Maybe you oughta have some eggs or bacon. Look at you, you're skin and bone. People'll think I ain't feeding you. Fix yourself something else, anything else."

"You never gave a shit before." He shrugs and jabs his fork into a second piece; on purpose, too, because he usually only takes one. "Why now?"

"I mean, in addition to cake."

"If I wanted eggs and bacon, I'd've made eggs and bacon."

"Look, alls I'm saying is it wouldn't kill you to eat a little protein. My football coach would've force fed me liver if I ate the shit you do every day. Your track coach, what's-his-name, Mr. James? Jones? Jenkins?"

"Jacobs."

"Mr. Jacobs'd hate this, and you know it."

"Well"—he glances around the room and shrugs—"Mr. Jacobs ain't here, so I'm eating cake today, tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that, too."

And this is the part where you ask yourself if it's worth the fight. Pick your battles, as your old man used to say. Still, your inner critic scolds you. Maybe this is the fight that's worth it. Maybe a normal parent wouldn't give up so damn early. Maybe a real father would shove a pound of bacon in his face and keep him at the table until he ate it all.

"Cake it is then. But you're eating a real lunch."

"Uh-huh."

He won't. He'll devour the rest of the pan just to spite you.

II. You're lucky as shit he's your brother, and yet, you never appreciate it.

Curly's back in the reformatory, and your kid brother's idea of rebellion is reading all of Gone With the fucking Wind instead of cleaning his room.

"I swear on the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I'll lock you in here till I can see the floor."

"Go ahead." He turns a page. "I'm at the best part. I ain't going nowhere."

You roll your eyes and slam the door on your way out.

Soda's on the couch, laughing his ass off. "Wait. You really thought you could pull him away from his favorite book?"

"Shut up. It's your room too. Could just as soon lock you in there too."

"But you won't."

"But you won't," you mock, sinking into the armchair.

He's right, you won't.

And deep down, you know you're lucky. Compared to Curly, Dallas, Steve, Two-Bit, Soda, you—God weren't you a delight at fourteen—he's pretty damn well-behaved for a teenager.

And somehow still too much for you to handle.

III. You get so mad at him you scare yourself.

Yell over talk. Threaten over teach. React over respond. Every time he checks into the Twilight Zone, you lose your shit. If he'd just pay attention … If he'd just keep his brain on planet Earth …

"I'm working a double," you tell your brothers, and brothers plural. "Won't be back till late, so y'all are on your own for dinner."

Soda salutes you. "Aye-aye, Superman."

Pony idly looks up from his book. "Huh?"

"You tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You tell me," you repeat, fists clenched. "Word for word, tell me what I just fucking said."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll clean my room before you get home."

"That ain't what I said."

"Sorry." His nose is already back in that damn book. "Guess I didn't hear you."

Sorry this. Sorry that. I didn't hear you this. I wasn't thinking that.

Count to ten. Like Soda says, count. to. ten. One, two … don't say anything … three, four … don't do anything … five, six, Soda heard you and'll repeat it the second you're gone … seven … but when Soda says it, he'll listen … eight … goddamn kid never listens to you … nine—

You rip the book from his hands and hurl it on the floor. "I said I won't be home till late."

"Easy, man." Soda smacks your arm and steps in front of Pony. "It ain't a big deal."

Pony retrieves the book and stomps off to his room. He flips you the bird, and you return the gesture.

Soda's right. It ain't a big deal. Logically, you know that, but the side of the brain that knows can't get the other to calm the fuck down.

It ain't Pony's fault you're pulling a double shift. It ain't Pony's fault you haven't slept a full night since the accident. It ain't Pony's fault you're an asshole. "Pony," you call out to his closed door, "if you wanna smoke more than a pack today, go ahead."

If he hears you, it's a peace offering. If he doesn't, well, good.

IV: He considers your feelings, but you can't make sense of his.

"Happy Brother's Day, I guess." Pony shoves a hand-drawn card in front of you. "I know you ain't Dad, but still thought I should do something."

You open it and can't even register or digest the words. They span the entire card, and he probably put a thousand times more thought into them than you did his birthday gift.

"Thank you." You shoot up and wrap both arms around him tight. Thank you is all you can produce. He's the wordsmith of the family, not you.

"Jesus, don't crush me. You trying to kill me?"

"Nah, not today at least." You let go and gently pat his back. "Listen, you're an all right kid, Pony. I mean that. Ignore me when I tell you otherwise."

"Yeah, okay." Now he can't find his words. "I mean thanks." Face beet red, he moves to slink away just as fast as he'd slipped the card in front of you.

"Hey, wait." You sling an arm around his shoulder and pull him back. "Wanna go to Dairy Queen or a movie or something? I mean, for Father— Brother's Day. I got the day off."

"They aren't open on Sundays."

Shit. So much for that.

"But next time you time got the day off"— he leans into the embrace—"I'd like that."

He can read you like he reads his books, and you, you'll never find the right way you say you love him.

So instead, you'll suffer through one of his movies to show him you love him.

And you do love him.

Just as a brother.

You'll never be his father.

#the outsiders #outsiders #fanfic #fanfiction #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #outsiders fanfiction #outsiders fanfic

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underneaththebunkerfic · 2 years

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Kin: Chapter 24

#fanfic #fanfiction #angst #fic #dally winston #darry curtis #johnny cade #outsiders #outsiders fanfiction #ponyboy curtis

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avesseloflanguage · 2 years

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hello all, especially fans of The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton! tomorrow i am publishing the first chapter of my Outsiders fanfiction titled Tomorrow, Yesterday on Wattpad and AO3.

the fic is a complete retelling of the original novel, but from the perspective of a different character (if you follow me you might already know which one!). it follows the story and timeline with chapter-by-chapter accuracy, and is canon compliant!

i hope to see you all tomorrow for the first chapter :) in the meantime, here's some little teasers and details you might like to know:

the title inspiration first came up when i accidentally created a motif in the story, and was set in stone because of the song "Yesterday" by The Beatles

despite being two chapters shorter than the original novel (oops hint hint), the fic is about 18,000 words longer than the original. i just think that's neat!

it is very queer

S. E. Hinton can fight me on this

even though Ponyboy is still a central character (of course), the fic gets the opportunity to explore a lot of other characters and their (headcanoned) backstories, from members of the gang to minor characters mentioned once or twice

it says fuck

anyways, i can't wait to see you all tomorrow! thanks for being here!

UPDATE: it's here :)))

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wa5ped-with-an-s · 6 days

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pb headcanons

hc #2: if there is a sports ball near pony, even if it’s not being thrown, it will somehow find a way to hit him in the face/on the head. bonus points when he’s being the dramatic and purpose and pretends to crumble to the ground in pain, then gets up and walks away.

#ponyboy #outsiders fanfiction

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flameraven · 2 years

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#fanfiction #fandom #touch grass #gardening #they're not wrong #whenever it tell my friend about online arguments she is baffled #people get mad about this stuff? really? why??#much better for your mental health to go outside for a bit

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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

“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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destiel-wings · 7 months

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this is dean directly speaking to us with the fanfiction writing power and living outside of the narrative he's trapped in, asking us to do what chuck and the cw don't allow him to have

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the-greasers-angel · 10 months

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How the gag would react if there partner had an ed:

Darry:

When you first told darry about it he honestly was a little shocked at first but non the less he was very supportive in anyway he could be.

He knew that you hated eating in front of others so when the boys were over an he made food he would always save some for the two of you later

Later once the boys were gone (or asleep) him and you would go outside with the food from before and you two would get on the bed of his truck and started to talk

He always looked up at the sky or whatever was around while he started to lead a conversation while you would take small bites of the food

Once the two of you were done he would put the bowls aside and gently pull you into his arms to hold you “ you did such a good job sweetie, i'm so proud of you for eating” he would say as well as giving you small kisses on your head

Sodapop:

When you told sodapop about your ed he honestly didn't know how to react at first so with him not being able to use his words he gently pulled you into a hug “ alright sugar just tell me how i can help you”

If you worked at the DX with him and steve he would always cover for u while secretly giving you a longer lunch break

Every now and then when he had some money on him he would get u small gifts such as a stuffed animal or a new piece of clothing you have wanted for a while

When you two are apart from each other he gives you his flannel with his colon on it so it smells like him to comfort you

Ponyboy:

This poor boy would be confused honestly- he never really knew that was so you would have to explain the whole thing to him

He would try to always have a snack or some sort of food on him for u just in case u havent had anything to eat yet

He would leave little notes of encouragement in your locker (ex: your doing great today baby or how you look as lovely as a sunrise/sunset)

Holds your hand and gently rubs it with his thumb when you have to eat in front of the gang to try and comfort you.

Johnny:

Johnny gently wraps his arms around u when u tell him, johnny slightly knows what it's like so he tries his best to help you when u can

He will try and make food for you when he knows its a hard day ( side note i feel like when he did this ponyboy would bother him or try to nit pick at it and johnny would end up kicking ponyboy out-)

He gives you his jacket if you feel uncomfortable at the dinner or wherever

Dally:

For once dally fully listened to you when you told/ explained to him about it and he even asked for ways to help.

If you were at bucks and anybody said anything about it in a negative way dally would definitely make them lose a few teeth or a broken rib for it

When its just the two of you he trys to get you food to eat and then he lets you fall asleep on him

Secretly after awhile he gets buck to watch over you and make sure to get u something to eat ( dally would do dishes to help every once in awhile to “pay” for it)

Two-bit:

(Ok this is going to sound stupid but i think its cute-) two steal buy you cups with funny designs on them to help you feel comfortable

He holds you in his lap whenever you eat

Trys to make u laugh while you eat and probably attacks you with kisses on your cheek and neck

steal buys you snacks

Steve:

If you were having a bad day he would slightly threaten to tickle you until you ate-

He packs lunch for you when u got to the dx

He rarely even lets u have more of his chocolate cake

Holds u close to him kissing your cheek softly ( you try not to let him if he has cake on his face but you fail anyways-)

[I'm sorry this was so late it was a request and I forgot to post it like 8 hours ago-]

#outsiders fanfic #outsiders fanfiction #outsiders headcanons #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders hcs #dally winston #sodapop imagine #the outsiders imagine

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18caramel · 6 days

Text

reached 77k words on my outsiders fanfic today. DAMN. going strong since january

#the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #outsiders fanfiction #dallaswinston #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #johnny cade #fanfiction

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quizzicalwriter · 7 months

Note

dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time

Sweet Thing

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.)

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.”

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.)

#dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston writing #dallas winston x reader smut #dallas winston drabble #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston smut #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston #dally winston x reader #dally winston #my work #the outsiders writing #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders #request #anon ask #the outsiders dally #the outsiders dallas

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years

Text

Darry Curtis Drabble #1

“Babe, what on earth are you doing?”

You whipped around and pulled your buttery fingers out of your mouth. “Nothing.”

“Is that…butter?”

“Umm, yes?” You bit your lip as you wiped your fingers on the oversized shirt you always wore to bed. However, the shirt was becoming rather fitted as of late, given that you were nearly four months pregnant.

Darry blinked sleepily, the kitchen’s dim light illuminating every inch of his tanned, bare chest.

“The…the baby wanted it.” You reached behind you and picked up the glass dish of butter in question. “And, you know, the, uh, the doctor said I should eat whenever I want.”

“Baby,” Darry smiled, rubbing his eyes before crossing to pull you close by your waist. “I don’t think he meant butter.”

“But I needed it.” You frowned as Darry took the dish away. “Babe,”

“What you need is to come back to bed.” He set the dish down on the table before moving closer so that the baby was pressed between the two of you. “I miss you.” He whispered, giving you a kiss as his hands slid up to cradle your belly.

“Butter,” you mumbled.

“Look,” Darry broke the kiss with a laugh. “I’ll make you pancakes in the morning, all right? Then you can have all the butter you want.”

“Promise?” You grinned at him.

“Yeah, baby. I promise. Now come to bed.”

Fanfic Masterlist

#outsiders #the outsiders #outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders headcanons #darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #darry #darry curtis x you #darry curtis x y/n #darry x reader #darry x you #darry x y/n

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thebrotherscurtis · 10 months

Text

“Imposter”

Links: AO3. FF.net. Wattpad. Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns all characters. Summary: Two years after the accident, Darry still can’t reconcile his roles as brother and parent. Post-book, Darry-centric fic.

Don’t kill him, don’t kill him, don’t kill him.

No, death might be too merciful for whatever Pony’d done to get suspended an entire week. Worse yet, the secretary wouldn’t tell me why. Just said it was a conversation best had in person.

Well, here I was now face-to-face with Principal Brown for the first time since junior year. I tried to suppress the memories, but sitting across from that stoic face sent me back to age sixteen. Lord, was I a dumbass. Cutting class with Paul, hiding behind the football bleachers, passing a joint between us, taking swigs from his old man’s flask … We wasted two hours before a janitor caught us and chased our asses straight to the principal’s office.

Maybe I was meant to remember, though. Humble me. Remind me whatever Pony’d done couldn’t be worse.

“Always nice to see you, Darrel.” Mr. Brown flashed a phony smile. “I hope you’re doing well.”

He hoped nothing , the way his eyes widened real big when I walked in. He was anticipating someone put together, someone professional, someone who was going places, the very someone I was back in senior year. Anyone but me. Decked in a tattered uniform, reeking of tar and sweat, I’d aged a decade in two years.

“Doing fine, sir.” I forced a grin and extended my hand to shake his.

He grimaced, staring me down like I was some kind of disease, and kept his hands neatly folded atop his desk. “Glad to hear,” he said, phony smile returning.

“All right, what’d he do?” I demanded, no longer able to maintain a polite facade. “It’ll save us both time if you cut straight to the worst of it.”

“Darrel Curtis, I may no longer be your principal, but you will still treat me with respect.”

“Yeah, there’s a funny thing about respect.” I looked him straight in the eye, refusing to let him think he’d humiliated me. “It goes both ways.”

“Indeed, I’ve shown you respect, and now I expect the same in return.” He combed through a stack of papers for a few moments and glanced up. “For starts, should we ever need to conference again, show up in clothes that aren’t soiled. This is a school, not a barnyard.”

“Well, excuse me, your highness, for not having the time to change into a tuxedo,” I snapped. “I didn’t realize I was having a meeting with the king.”

“Cut right to the worst of it, huh?”

I nodded. “I’m missing an hour of work to be here. Make it worth my time.”

“Mrs. Morris caught your brother writing another student’s paper last week.”

"That all?”

“Surely, you understand the severity of academic dishonesty.”

“Of course, I do. Just seems harsh for one lousy paper.” The urge to defend Pony grew stronger and stronger with each passing second. “You suspended him an entire week for that?”

“Believe me, I wish it were one paper. Here.” He pushed a stack of papers in front of me—dozens and dozens of them. “Take a look and see for yourself.”

I glanced down and back up. “He wrote all of this?”

“Most of it, yes,” he explained. “His scheme involved many students, or should I say, customers. In short, your brother was making a business out of completing other students' work.”

“C’mon, this ain’t even his handwriting.” I sifted through the so-called evidence and held up a paper with penmanship worse than Soda. “This.” I shook it and slapped it back down on the desk. “This proves nothing.”

"Mimicking handwriting was part of his business plan."

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

"No, I have it on good accord he was advertising his ability to forge handwriting.”

“Look, I mean no disrespect.” I meant all the disrespect in the world. “ It just sounds far-fetched, like something out of a movie.”

“Believe me, I know,” he acknowledged. “Let’s just say in my twenty-five years in education, this is the worst case of plagiarism I’ve ever seen. We’ve been investigating it all week. Must’ve been quite the lucrative business given a grand total of twenty-nine students admitted they paid him to do their work. Well, twenty-nine that we know of. I wouldn’t be shocked if we uncover more.”

“So that’s your schtick—encouraging kids to nark?”

He snatched the papers back from me and tucked them in a folder. “We interviewed several students, and yes, out of necessity, we offered a plea deal of sorts. In exchange for information, a chance to redo the plagiarized assignments.”

“That sounds shady,” I concluded. “If I were failing a class and you told me I could redo the assignment, I’d throw a kid under the bus, too.”

“I don’t think you understand how serious this is,” he rattled on. "The English department is having a heck of a time cleaning up the aftermath, and I wish I could tell you English was the only department impacted. He was writing lab reports, history essays, you name it."

"Christ, that’s ridiculous." I raked a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to storm right out of the office. “I know plagiarism ain't a laughing matter. I know you could justify flunking him if it's true, but we’re talking about a kid who can barely remember to brush his teeth or put on his shoes before he leaves the house. There's no way. You expect me to believe he single-handedly pulled this off?”

“I’m not sure what to tell you other than all fingers point back to him.”

“Because you bribed everyone to rat him out.”

“We had to,” he insisted. “With so many students implicated, we had no other choices. Now you can chew me out all you want, but it won’t matter. He already fessed up this morning.”

“Probably only because you had him framed. What kind of plea deal did you offer him?”

“Suspension instead of expulsion.”

Expulsion. Fuck. The word settled in my stomach like a bolt of lead and knocked the bravado right out of me. “So, suspended a week?” I sat up a bit straighter, wishing I were dressed more like Paul’s father than my own. “This ain’t gonna affect his grade or nothing?”

“We considered failing him for each class in which this occurred, but when we did the math, it would amount to failing two grades of high school.”

Might as well expel him at that point. I swallowed the remainder of my pride and spat out the sincerest apology I could muster. “I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have lost it with you. I’m sure you have his best interest at heart.”

He didn’t and never would, but if my outburst tipped him over the edge, if my outburst dared him to flunk Pony, I’d never forgive myself. Pony would graduate. I might fuck up parenting in every other regard, but I wouldn’t fuck that up.

“I assure you, we all do,” he told me, tone anything but genuine. “His teachers are furious, but none of them, not a single one, wants him to flunk out of high school. We’re making an exception. Suspended one week starting today and a month’s worth of detention upon his return.”

“So his grades won’t be impacted? His As will remain As?”

“If he had As, then yes,” he agreed. “Completing everyone else’s assignments doesn’t leave much time for your own.”

“Thank you, sir. I mean that. Thank you for not flunking him.

“I couldn’t justify it when he has such a bright future ahead of him, and thank God for that, considering what he came from.”

What he came from. God, he’d said the same thing to me junior year—that I had a chance, one I shouldn’t squander—and I’ll never forget how he read me the Riot Act and let Paul off with a light tap on the wrist. Out of concern, he’d claimed, concern my old man didn’t care about my academic future.

“I’m worried about him,” Mr. Brown continued, voice oozing in feigned concern, “and what kind of home environment he’s coming home to.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. He’s in good hands, I promise.”

“I want to trust you, but you hadn’t the faintest clue this was happening. What else are you missing?”

“You don’t have to worry,” I repeated. “If anything, I’m too hard on him.”

“Not hard enough, I’d say.” He shook his head firmly. “If he were my kid, I’d put the fear of God in him before it got worse.”

And here came the unsolicited parenting advice.

“Keep closer tabs on him, and do something about that attitude,” he suggested. “Pony was anything but remorseful with me this morning, and he’s been lipping off to his teachers, too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” I assured him. “I’ll shape him up so good you won’t even recognize him when he returns.

“I hope you will.” And with that, Mr. Brown stood up and shooed me to the door. “That was all we needed to discuss today, Darrel. Now if you’ll excuse me now, I have a meeting in five minutes.”

“I’ll handle it,” I reiterated as he closed the door. “Don’t you worry. I’ll handle everything.”

I’d handle it all right, but how?

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice, Darrel,” Mr. Brown’s secretary said. “I’ll call Ponyboy down to the office, and you can take him home.”

I said nothing. Just gave her a slight nod, so she’d know I’d heard her.

My mother used to tell me if I had nothing nice to say to say nothing at all, and I should’ve followed that advice with Mr. Brown. One call to the state would land us in hotter water than we’d ever been in. I knew that, and I knew our caseworker would believe any lie from his lips before she’d listen to me.

I knew that, and my temper still got the best of me.

xxxxx

The drive home was dead silent. Mom used to fall quiet like that when we’d really pissed her off—keep us in suspense until the punishment felt like mercy. Maybe that was what I was going for, but truth be told, I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, or how to punish him.

“Go to your room,” I ordered the moment we set foot in the house.

“Ain’t you gonna yell at me?”

“I dunno yet.” I shrugged and stabbed a finger at his door. “Go. Now.”

“Fine.”

“And wait for me,” I added, trying to sound intimidating, but that brat still slammed his door three times. “I heard that, you little shit.”

“Good.”

“Jesus, what happened?” Soda asked before I could even sit down.

“None of your business.”

“What happened?”

“I said none of your damn business.”

“Look, if you won’t tell me, I’ll march right into his room and ask him myself.”

“I’ll tell you later.” I hurled myself facedown into the couch. “Let me take a nap first.”

“Or you could tell me now.” He took a seat on the coffee table and poked my arm until I sat up. “I ain’t bluffin’. You wanna tell your side of the story first, you better start talking.”

“For the love of all that’s holy, little buddy,” I hissed. “Give me a break. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“How ‘bout the beginning?” he pressed on. “Seems as good a place to start as any.”

“Sometimes you piss me off even more than him.”

“Right back at you.”

I gave his shoulders a light shove and tried to walk away, but he pushed me back into the couch twice as hard. “Start talking, Superman.”

“Fuck this.” I chucked both throw pillows across the room. “Fuck him, fuck you, fuck everything, but fuck you especially. Go ask him. I’m tired.”

Soda retrieved the pillows and hurled them at my face one by one. “Too bad. I’m only asking you now.”

Fuck off, I muttered under my breath yet relented. “He’s suspended a week and has detention for an entire month after that. Happy now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you’ll never guess what he did,” I said. “Not in a million years.”

“Well, If I had to guess, I’d say shit finally hit the fan on that business he and Curly were trying to run.”

“Curly?!” I scoffed. “I mean, yeah, they nailed him for plagiarism, but I didn’t hear shit all about Curly.”

“Yeah, he recruited the customers,” Soda stated as if it were front-page news to everybody except me. “That was their agreement. Curly found the students, Pony did their homework, and they split the profit 50/50. I told ‘em both it was a stupid idea.”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” I demanded. “I can’t believe you knew.”

“I thought I’d convinced him not to go through with it,” he continued. “Told ‘em it was dumb and Pony agreed, but then he started staying up later, claiming he had all this homework. He said it was all his, but I knew better. For a smart kid, he’s kinda a dumbass sometimes, huh?”

“Nah, not this time at least.” I sighed, finally admitting I was impressed. “It’s brilliant, honestly. Damn, I could’ve made a killing if I’d dreamed up something half that wild. You know how many football players would sell their left kidney for someone to write their English paper? I don’t know if I should kill him or congratulate him.”

“Y’all talking about me?” Pony piped up from the corner.

“I thought I sent you to your room.” I shot him a stern look and pointed back at his door. “Get your ass back in there.”

“Yeah, well, I heard you hollering at Soda and had to see what was up.”

“Nothing’s up,” Soda lied. “Go back to your room.”

“If you’re both gonna yell at me, you might as well do it now.”

“Fine,” I said. “Tell me about Curly.”

“Soda already explained it,” Pony replied. “I told Mr. Brown it was all my idea, so he’d lay off him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Soda laid into him before I could even open my mouth. “You should’ve saved your own ass and told him it was all Curly’s idea. I thought he dropped out anyway.”

“Nope. Tim made him go back. Figured it’d keep him on the straight and narrow and out of juvie.”

“Hey, not a half-bad idea.” I glanced at Soda. “I oughta send your ass back to school. Keep you out of trouble.”

“Shut up,” Soda growled and turned back to Pony. “Look, I know you ain’t the type to rat out your friends, and I respect that, but I’m begging you just this once…”

“Nope.” Pony shook his head in staunch refusal. “Not a chance in hell. Besides, I couldn’t blackmail him if I did that.”

“Blackmail him?” Soda asked.

“Yeah. I told him he had to give me half his portion of the profits, or I’d tell Tim.”

“Tell Tim what?” I asked.

“Beats me.” Pony shrugged. “Just said I’d tell Tim, and that’s all I had to say.”

And what I wouldn’t give for him to fear me like that. What I wouldn’t give to live in a universe where I’ll tell Darry meant something to him.

“Don’t get too excited,” I said. “You’re putting all that cash in a college fund. Every last cent.”

Without a word, he rolled his eyes and started walking toward his room.

“I’m talking to you, Ponyboy Michael,” I called after him. “Get back here.”

“We ain’t even close to done,” Soda added.

“You both sent me to my room, so I’m going there.” And with that, he slammed his door a fourth time.

Soda stared at the door for a moment and turned back to me. “You asked me if you should congratulate him or kill him … I say kill him. Definitely kill him.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I planted my face back into the couch cushions and shoved the pillows over my head. “Tomorrow,” I mumbled into the fabric. “Tomorrow, I’ll kill him.”

#the outsiders #outsiders #outsiders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #curly shepard

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