#two bit x reader

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling softly at his morning voice. “Mhm, though it seems like you’re barely awake.”

He simply hummed in response and pulled you impossibly closer, pressing tired kisses to your neck and jaw. You scratch his scalp and let the calm from the morning wash over the both of you before you had to get up and run the household like you were running a tight ship.

“You ready to get up yet?” You ask softly, pausing your movements when you don’t get a response. “Darry?”

“Yeah,” He groaned and sat up, leaning back on his elbows. “I’m up.”

You giggle and wipe away the tiredness from his eyes, earning a quick kiss to the lips before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched properly. You follow suit and sit beside him, tilting your head to meet his blue-green eyes.

“You tired already, old man?”

Darry playfully glared at you, “You’re the one who wanted to stay up all night.”

“And you agreed.” You point out and move to stand, laughing when he pulled you to stand in between his legs, his chin resting on your abdomen. You rest a manicured hand on his jaw, thumb gently rubbing his incoming stubble. “We’re only twenty, Dar. We’re still young.”

“I know.” He murmured and pressed a kiss on your palm. “You remind me every day.”

You smile softly and watch him as he stands, resting a warm hand on your waist. He kisses your forehead before pulling out his work clothes for the day, making you spring right into action.

The routine you and Darry had started ever since you practically moved in with the Curtises. While he got ready for work in the morning, you made it your job to get the boys up and ready for their own day—occasionally the rest of the gang when they stayed over. Last night, Johnny stayed over.

You knocked on the boys’ bedroom door before opening it quietly, your heart tugging at the sight of Ponyboy wrapped in Sodapop’s arms. You sat on the end of their bed and gently shake Sodapop awake first, watching his face contort in discomfort.

“You gotta get up now, Pepsi-Cola. I don’t want you late for work again.” You say quietly as he finally sits up, exhaustion covering his face. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his hands and slowly making his way to the bathroom to shower, work clothes in hand.

You sigh and look back at Ponyboy who was still under the covers. “Hey, Pony. It’s time to get up for school.”

“Five more minutes, mom.” He groaned and tugged the blanket over his head, not realizing what he had said.

For a second, you sat frozen at his words. There were several instances where the boys would call you mom, but they were all fairly conscious and said it as a joke. But as Ponyboy subconsciously called you his mom, your heart only ached at the thought. And you could never replace Mrs. Curtis—everyone knew that.

“Ponyboy, you need to get up.” You pulled the covers away from him, looking down at his tired figure with soft eyes. “Please? You can’t miss another day of school or Darry’s gonna have to come down to the principal’s again.”

After contemplating—although you knew Ponyboy just wanted to lay in bed longer—he begrudgingly got up and shooed you out of the bedroom, muttering a quick acknowledgment in your direction.

You sighed before entering the living room, a sad smile tugging at your lips when you spotted Johnny curled up on the couch. His limbs were hanging off the edge and the blanket barely covered his body, but you knew he would rather sleep here than at the lot or worse, his own home.

“Hey, Johnnycakes.” You kneel beside him and put a hand on his arm, careful to not scare him from the sudden action. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” He mumbled and gave you a sheepish smile before sitting up, straightening his jacket to have something to fiddle with. “Sorry for intrudin’.”

You stand and fold the blanket, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re always welcome, Johnny. Hell, I’d have you move in with us if it weren’t for your folks.”

Johnny burned red and nodded, mumbling an excuse about needing to use the restroom. You opened your mouth to tell him Sodapop was occupying the space, but the sudden stomps of boots that came running inside the house interrupted you, the screen door rattling behind them.

“Two-Bit Mathews and Steve Randle!” You call from the living room as they ran into the kitchen to grab the chocolate cake from the icebox, ignoring Darry’s disappointed look. “What did I say about slamming the door?”

“Sorry, ma!” They hollered in unison, sitting their asses right in front of the television that was tuned into Mickey Mouse for Two-Bit’s sanity.

You rolled your eyes and entered the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as Darry prepared breakfast for the household. You watched him with a smile, eyeing him up and down before meeting his gaze, his eyebrow raised in your direction.

“What? You can’t blame a woman for staring at her boyfriend who looks effortlessly handsome cooking.” You brush a stray piece of hair away from your face, cheeks dusted with a light pink hue. “Besides, you chose not to wear a shirt in the morning, Superman.”

“Maybe because I’m comfortable like this.” Darry swapped the finished eggs for bacon, pulling out the grape jelly for Sodapop and hard boiled eggs for Ponyboy. “Or maybe because your reactions are totally worth it.”

“Aw, you love me.” You put a hand on your heart dramatically and smile wider when he pulled you close by the waistband of your sleep shorts. “Hey—“

“I do love you, don’t question it.” He murmured and pressed a kiss to your lips, smirking when you gasped at the sudden action.

Darry knew you knew that he hated public displays of affection. So when he initiated it in his own house filled with the boys who you both knew would make fun of the display, you were thoroughly shocked.

“Darrel, man, do you have an ice pack—? Jesus Christ, keep that in the bedroom.” Dally scrubbed his face at the sight of the two you of you and turned away, boots heavy against the floor as he headed back into the living room where he last was.

You pulled away from the kiss, giggling at Darry’s suddenly bright red face. “You know, for a manly guy, you get red real fast, Curtis.”

“Shut up.” He snapped your waistband against your hip and spun you around, nudging you out of the kitchen playfully. “I love you.”

“Love you more.” You huff in amusement and tilt your head back at him, blowing a kiss before changing your gaze toward the boys sitting in the living room, each boy doing their own thing.

Sodapop was lazily laying on the couch with a towel wrapped around his waist, Ponyboy was most likely telling Johnny about his latest book read, Dallas was smoking a cigarette and blowing it in Steve’s face, and Two-Bit—well—he still sat directly in front of the television with the plate of cake in front of him, using his hands to dig into the sweet without care.

You sighed at the sight and grabbed your purse, taking money from your wallet and handing five dollar bills to Johnny and Ponyboy.

“For lunch. If you don’t eat, I will find you and make you eat extra for dinner, yes?” You put your hands on your hips and tap your finger, watching them with a careful eye as they nodded vigorously and tucked the money into their pockets.

Sodapop lolled his head to the side and met your eyes, making you raise your brows at his appearance. “Why aren’t you dressed for work?”

“Thought I could wait until after breakfast.” He mused, running his fingers through his wet hair before shaking his head like a wet dog, earning an annoyed groan from Dallas. “That alright, mom?”

You exhale slowly and rub your temples, choosing to ignore what he called you. “As long as you’re ready before it’s time for you to leave, it’s alright.” You opened your eyes again and stared at the boys as they returned to do their own thing, wishing they would cooperate a little better than they did.

Just as you caught Dallas stubbing his cigarette into the wooden side table instead of the ashtray you specifically bought for him, Darry walked into the living room and put a hand on your back, stabilizing your overworked mind without knowing it. You looked up to your right and gave him a soft smile, earning one back before he spoke to the boys.

“Breakfast is ready.” Darry announced and watched his brothers and the rest of the gang stumble over their own feet to get a piece of real food before anyone else ate it—almost like a stampede of animals in Africa.

“You better be washing your hands first!” You call out to them when you heard plates clash into each other, pursing your lips to hide a grin when their groans and complaints rang through the house.

You waited until you heard rushing water to look up at Darry properly, his hand still warm against your back.

He tilted his head down and smiled, “You ought to be their real mother with the way you scold them.”

“Six boys under one roof? Hmph, sounds like a recipe for disaster.” You rest your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heart beat under your fingertips. “Besides, if I’m gonna be a mother, I’d rather it not be with those group of boys—“

“Steve, that’s not your egg!”

“Well, Dally took my egg!”

“Can y’all shut up?”

“No!”

You and Darry look back at one another, your laughter and his chuckles ringing through the air. You both knew you would rather take care of these boys rather than send them back to their terrible homes—it was part of the Curtis’ open door policy. Besides, you cared for each boy in their own way, Ponyboy, Johnny, and Sodapop as your main priority.

“You think they’ll let us have our own breakfast?” Darry moved his hand to your hip and slowly moved toward the kitchen, the arguing from the boys getting louder with each step.

You peer into the crowded kitchen, eyes widening at the sight of the once clean space. “I think they probably ate all the food already… Maybe.”

“Hey, it’s mom and dad!” Two-Bit pointed the two of you out, the food that was stuffed in his mouth flying out with every word.

The rest of the gang cheered in laughter—each boy expressing their own opinion on your relationship.

Dallas was beyond disgusted by the two of you, but still agreed that you were both like the parents of the gang; Two-Bit loved calling the two of you ‘mom and dad,’ finding joy in the simple things; Steve didn’t care too much, only adding to the joke whenever he felt like it; Johnny thought the two of you were a better set of parents then his were; and Ponyboy and Sodapop?

They loved your relationship the second the two of you made it official all those years ago, not minding too much that you and Darry were essentially their second set of parents. They wouldn’t trade the two of you for the world, even if you were both sometimes a little hard on them.

“Yeah yeah, mom and dad are here.” Darry pushed through the boys and stole his plate from the counter, emerging victorious with a cup of orange juice for you.

“Thanks.” You kiss his cheek before returning your eyes to the scene in front of you, resting your head on his shoulder. “We sure know how to make a house full, don’t we?”

“Well, according to them, we are mom and dad.” He splits half his breakfast sandwich with you. “I think it’s part of the job.”

You look over at Johnny, who seems to be eating more than he usually does whenever he’s over which makes your heart feel a little better at the sight. “I think I like this job, even if it wasn’t ours to begin with.”

His heart dropped.

His eyes scowered the room, on the search for you, when his eyes met your form sitting quietly next to an empty desk.

He internally groaned.

He always had a thing for you. He didn't quite know why, but something about your kind eyes you'd look at people with, your soft voice, or maybe it was how mysterious you seemed.

you'd always kept to yourself, what was hiding behind those walls you chose to keep up with your lack of communication with everyone?

He slowly walked over to the seat next to you and laid his stuff down before he sat.

It took a moment or two for the teacher to actually explain what you were doing, but once it was done, there was still a moment of silence with you two.

"..."

"..."

...

Should he start talking first? What should he say? He doesn't want to seem rude and not talk, but what if he said something super embarrassing or inappropriate?

"U-Uh, so, are you good with stuff like this?-" He blurts out before he can properly think.

"...Eh, yes and no," You mumble, shrugging your shoulders.

"Oh..."

"..."

...Jesus christ, keep the conversation going!

"...Why do you say that?"

You think to yourself for a moment, a part of you wanted to tell him, he had this inviting essence to him, but walls were already built so high.

You shrugged, "I dunno."

"I mean, for the most part I understand what's going on, but I also have times where I'm so lost and have no clue what I'm doing and just flop my grade."

"Do you have like a...a certain type of work that you find easiest? Or- or maybe like more?"

-

The two of you are walking to his house, side by side, and in silence.

Ponyboy would love to have another proper conversation with you, but he's practically shaking with nerves and wayy too scared to talk to you.

Throughout the walk, he keeps getting ideas of what to say, but chickens out.

You two finally reach his house and he trots to open the door. Normally, for any other girl, he would've just let her open it for himself, but for some reason, he felt like he should.

You smile and thank him, walking into the house, and the gesture gives him butterflies.

You walk inside and you're greeted by a foreign voice welcoming you beside, on the dark brown and broken in couch.

"Hey there."

You turn your head as Ponyboy gently closes the door behind him as he follows you.

A boy about maybe a year or two older than you greets you with a wide smile.

"Hello," You mirror.

Another voice calls out from a room a little forward.

"Ponyboy? Is that you?"

You can see how Pony subtly winces and he trots over to the, what you presume is, the kitchen.

Darry looks down at Pony, and he looks like a little kid who has something to say, but is too scared to ask. Ponyboy knows what he's going to say.

"I want you two at the table-"

"But we need stuff in my room-"

"Then bring it out here."

Ponyboy can't tell if Darry is saying this because he want him to suffer, or if it's for a genuine cause.

"But- Darry-! Wh-What if someone else comes in all loud? We can't work like that! C'mon! Please!"

Darry opens his mouth, but quickly retreats and thinks for a moment.

He lets out a scoff.

"Keep that door open," He says gruffly.

"Okayyy," Pony drags, sighing softly.

When Ponyboy comes back to you, you're sitting on the arm of the couch, conversing with his brother, Sodapop.

He sees you let out a breathy chuckle, and he feels his heart flutter at the sight. You're gorgeous. Well, he always thinks you are.

He calls your name and you perk up, oushing yourself up and walking over to him.

Ponyboy looks to Soda, and he has such a smug smirk on his face. It causes Pony's face to flush a very radiant pink and roll his eyes dramatically.

Ponyboy shows you to his room, and when you sit down on the bed, he basically tip-toes to the door and closes it shut as quietly as he possibly can, only to hear Darry yell across the house.

"Keep that door open Ponyboy!"

Ponyboy's brows furrow almost instantly and he looks at you with an incredulous look.

—

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?

does he love you?

yes, yes he does.

he’d let the whole world know that, too.