𝖲 𝖭 𝖠 𝖯 𝖣 𝖱 𝖠 𝖦 𝖮 𝖭

Hello!!!

𝖬𝗒 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖤𝗅𝗅𝖺, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇! I'm 6teen, I go by she/him, but I don't really mind what you call me.

I will be using this account to write stuff for the outsiders! My requests are currently open, so if you'd like to send some stuff in, that'd be much appreciated!

Dos and don'ts ↓↓↓

Taking what's not yours

Dallas Winston x neutral!reader, fluff, very short

Dallas wakes up to see you wearing his shirt

Dallas walked to the kitchen and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, rubbing his eyes as he tried to wake himself up.

He made himself a pot of coffee and poured it in, taking a sip and grimacing at the taste. It tasted like ass, but if it woke him up, he'd drink it.

You came trudging in after him. He thought of waking you up, but he knew you'd probably punch him in the gut if he disturbed your precious beauty sleep.

You walked up behind Dallas and wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your cheek against his shoulder blade.

"Morning," you grumbled, sounding as if you were two more seconds from passing out again.

"Morning," Dallas said as he turned around in your arms and wrapped his own around your shoulders. Dallas cocked a brow as he looked down and noticed the shirt you were wearing. "Is that mine?" He asked, his fingers pinching the fabric and twisting slightly.

"Maybe," you murmured, "it's comfy."

"Yeah. I know." Dallas huffed.

"So we're on the same page."

Dallas rolled his eyes at that, but decided it wasn't worth it to tell you to take it off. "Don't you have your own shirt?"

"Yeah but this one's comfy." You repeated, not bothering to look up at him, your face still buried in the crook of his neck.

Dallas was quiet for a second before sighing and resting his chin on the top of your head. "Whatever man..."

FIGHT ME, I LOVE YOU

Summary: Dallas Winston seems to be purposely pissing Tim Shepherd off so he'll punch him. How odd...

Tw: masochism, usage of the f-slur (I can reclaim it), tally (Tim x Dally), very lazy smut

Dallas was an odd guy. It only made sense he was into odd things.

Except, if you ask him, he'd most likely say no. You ask him if he likes the feel of Tim's knuckles cracking open against his skin, or Tim's hands pulling his hair so hard it made his brain hurt, or if you asked him if he liked how Tim's body felt up against his while they were rolling on the floor of whatever dirty bar they were fighting in, he'd probably spit in your face and laugh at you.

But he did like it. He liked it a lot.

In fact, he liked it so much he'd seek it out. Slashing his tires, stealing his cigarettes, talking shit to people he knew would snitch on him, or just randomly swinging at him.

Like right now.

Dallas saw Tim in the back of the bar, drinking and talking to a few buddies. Dallas was itching to go over and slap him so he would do something to him. If he had any impulse control, he'd keep those urges to himself, he'd walk out of the bar and go jerk off to playboy or something. But he didn't.

Dallas walked up behind Tim and punched him in the back of the head, hard enough to get him angry, but not to knock him out.

Tim grabbed the back of his head and snapped his head back to look at Dallas. "What the fuck!?" He shouted with a glare.

Dallas just grinned at him, which seemed to tick him off even more. Tim grunted as he swung his fists to the side of Dally's ribs, causing Dallas to double over, grabbing his side with a pained grin.

"Fuck..." Dallas choked out breathlessly, biting his lip as he looked up at Tim, waiting for more. Tim gave him just that, pushing him to the floor and straddling his hips, his rear right above his crotch.

Dallas groaned as the wind was knocked out of him, but didn't put up much of a fight as Tim started to punch him. He could feel his pants getting tighter with every blow, every curse, every time he'd accidentally grind down in his painfully obvious boner. This is what Dallas lived for. For the wrath and fury of Tim Shepard.

Tim grabbed Dallas by his bangs, lifting his head up before slamming his head to the floor. Dallas groaned, the noise sounding almost like a moan as his vision went white. He had no clue what was going on. Suddenly Tim was being dragged off of him, Tim screaming and cursing at him.

"FUCK YOU!" He could faintly hear Tim yell. "YOU STUPID FAG! THIS ISN'T OVER! I WILL KILL YOU, WINSTON!"

Dallas bit his lip at the thought of Tim coming back and beating the shit out of him again. He sat up, the world spinning around him as he blinked away the ringing behind his eyes. He brought a hand to his nose and looked down at all the blood pouring into his shirt. He looked around at Tim's friends who were all staring at him. He stood up on shaky legs and rolled his eyes.

"Fuck off," he muttered as he made his way to the exit, hoping Tim and his everlasting anger were waiting outside to finish the job.

All the little things

Summary: Dallas invites you to a party. When you get there, you're greeted with a not so pleasant surprise.

Tw: mentions of drinking, cheating, you slap Dallas in the face, angst, no comfort, open ending????

You walked into the bar, not expecting much. All Dallas told you was to be at some party around seven. Lousy douche couldn't even be bothered to drive his own girlfriend, you thought as yuh opened the door.

The room was loud. The kind of loudness that blocked out any thoughts from your head. That's usually the norm for a party, so you weren't too surprised.

You stepped through tons of people, escaping the crowd to sit down on a stool at the bar, leaning back against it and scanning the floor for Dallas. You assumed he was already here.

After a while you got bored of sitting and doing nothing. You grabbed a shot of something left unattended at the bar and threw your head back as you drank it in one big sip.

You slid off the stool and walked around, looking every which way for that familiar blonde, shaggy hair that Dallas refused to cut for some stupid reason. He thinks it makes him look 'tuff'. You think it makes him look homeless.

You finally saw him, and you smiled, walking up to him, ready to wrap your arms around him, kiss him, tell him about your day. Those thoughts died out when you saw a girl standing next to him. And he was grinning like he didn't have a girlfriend.

You wanted to keep it cool at first, taking a deep breath and continuing to walk. But then she grabbed his collar and pressed her lipstick smeared against his.

You froze up like a deer in headlights. You wanted to scream at him. You almost did, but you couldn't with the lump cemented in your throat.

You quickly looked away and stormed off, going straight for the exit as you tried your best not to cry. He must've seen you because as soon as you were outside he called out for you.

You looked behind you with a tearful glare. "What?" You snapped.

He shrunk back slightly but walked up to you.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't... She kissed me!" He protested desperately, wiping the stains from his lips with his jacket's sleeve.

You couldn't even think of something smart to say, you were just trying not to bawl. You rolled your eyes and began to walk off. Dallas grabbed your wrist and stopped you. "Baby, wait—"

You spun around and gave his cheek a hard smack. It was a total accident, just a reflex. But you couldn't lie... It felt satisfying. You quickly regretted it when you saw his face, his jaw slack and his eyes wide with shock.

He let go of your wrist, his hand going to his sore cheek. He looked over at you, shock and something akin to confusion playing across his features.

"What the fuck!?" He scolded with furrowed brows.

You stood your ground, standing a little straighter and puffing out your chest. "Don't fucking touch me," you spat, "not after what you pulled in there!" You shouted as you pointed at the bar.

"Baby, it was an accident!" He said exasperatedly, as if you were the one kissing random chicks at parties.

That made you mad. The way he acted as if he had done nothing wrong.

"Yeah? Well... Accident this, dickhead!" You said as you raised your fist and flipped him off.

He rolled his eyes and pushed your hand down to your side. "Baby... Dollface, c'mon. Mistakes happen."

"You make mistakes on your math homework, Dallas. What that was wasn't a mistake. It was cheating!"

Dallas ran a hand over his face. "Oh, come on!" He sighed. "I was drunk! Still am! You need proof? I'll try to walk in a straight line, prove how wasted I am."

"I don't want that!" You shouted. "I want you to act like I'm your girlfriend!"

"Well... Are you?" He asked. He wanted to know if that meant anything. If kissing another girl meant it was over for you.

You paused, and thought. A frown painted your face as you looked back up at him. "I don't know."

You wanted to say yes, that you still loved him and you two were still together. But your brain was telling you to hit him with your car.

"I don't know..." You admitted, your words a soft murmur. You didn't wanna look back up at him, keeping your eyes glued to the asphalt as you turned to walk away.

Dallas didn't stop you this time. Just watched.

Like smth like this

Dally has a mole on his shoulder

Johnny bites his nails

Darrel has back problems

Cozy

Darry x neutral!reader (I only use pronouns when referring to Darrel in this)

Fluff. That's it. That's all this is. It's just fluff.

Darry's a bastard (with love 🫰🏻)

Just a tad short but I'm just trying to write more so I can write longer stuff... Writers block is a bitch

Darry let out a huff as he closed the door behind him. He was tired. Sooo tired, it wasn't even funny.

He didn't even think about when he walked down the hallway and to his bedroom.

He opened the door and collapsed onto the bed face first with a quiet thud. He didn't even notice you next to him, looking down at him with furrowed brows.

"You okay, hon?" You asked softly as you reached out to brush some of his hair from his face.

He let out a small hum and nodded. You didn't exactly believe him, but you decided not to push it.

"How was work?" You asked gently as you lowered yourself on your side, looking at him as he settled into the mattress.

"It was work..." He mumbled under his breath."

"Right." You said with a small sigh as you looked him over.

He was... Gross. Sweaty and covered in a bit of dirt.

"Darrel?"

"Hm..?"

"You, uh... You wanna shower or something?" You asked hesitantly, not wanting to sound mean to your obviously exhausted boyfriend.

He let out another hum and shook his head. "Later... 'M tired."

You let out a soft sigh. "Fine." You said recently, fighting the urge to spray him down with a hose.

You cringed a little when he threw his arm over you, smiling as if he knew he was being a bastard. "Come here. Wanna hold ya."

You squirmed a little and let out a little bleh noise as you were pressed against Darry's sweaty body.

"Darrel!" You protested, but you were too late. You were already pressed to his side with both his sweaty arms wrapped around you in a gross, if not just a little cute, embrace.

"Aww, c'mon baby. I thought you loved me." He cooed as he kissed your cheek.

"Go shower!" You shouted as you tried to pull away.

He let out a deep chuckle before pressing one last lingering kiss to your cheek.

"Fine. You're no fun."

"You're gross." You retorted with a huff, suddenly feeling like you needed a shower too.

"Nahh. I'm just charming." He said before grabbing a towel and a pair of underwear. "I'll see you in a bit." He said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you in bed to wait for his return.

It ain't me you're looking for babe.

EXTREMELY out of character but Idrc

Mentions of sex

Angsty

NO happy ending. Kinda just ends with reader mad at Dallas

Fem user x Dallas

Pretty really short

Dallas wasn't stupid. Just lonely. He'd never say it, but he wants love. He wants to be sweet for someone, for that someone to care for him.

For some reason he thought that someone could be you.