#two-bit x reader

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

“how’s ‘bout you put that game down and start heading to bed?” a faint voice calls out to you from the hallway. you glance at DARRY — your view of him transformed with the way you hang upside down on the couch — before your eyes dart back down to the little screen, your thumbs mashing at the small buttons strategically. you huff at his question, partially because you know he won’t give it up.

his brow cocks at your silence, placing the toothbrush in his mouth as he makes his way toward you. his bare footsteps echo through the hall before he turns the corner and just.. stands there; head tilted with a hand on his hip.

“i’ll go right now, dar. i’m just— shit!”

your voice lilts upwards in pitch as he grabs you from the couch, dropping your game in the process. you’re thrown over his shoulder and all you can do is pout as you hear the animated staccato-like beeps of the defeat theme chiming from the small speaker — right paired along with a bright, white “game over” on the screen.

“darry!”

he ignores your keen with a roll of his eyes. “y’know what time it is?”

you lightly smack his side with the back of your hand — not to do anything, but just a little way to articulate how much time it took for you to almost beat your high score. you didn’t realize the fact that it was actually 10pm, nor did you realize the fact that darry had been waiting for you to do your nightly routine together, like you always did.

“do you know how long it took me to get there?” head lolling down in despair, you scrunch your eyes shut once you hear his low chuckle.

“took y’about twelve seconds to get over here. see how fast time flies?” darry says, and you only cross your arms because you know it’s true. he puts you down on the bed as your body plops down on the mattress. you really need to buy him a new bed, you thought — teeth gnashing at the way the springs screech with every subtle movement.

“you’re so mean.”

“for wantin’ you to get a good night’s rest? you’re awful stubborn for shapes on a board,” he half jests, much to your displeasure. he tucks you in, blanket secure under your side so that you can’t easily access your game in the living room — and yes, he’s caught you multiple times trying to sneak over.

in spite of that, he can’t help the way his lips twitch fondly at the sight of you so focused on trying to pass a level; neither can he help the softness in his chest at the sight of soda and pony peering over your shoulder with curious smiles, either.

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the soda shop buzzes with noise—jukebox, laughter, the faint clatter of the pinball in the corner. SODAPOP’s beside you, elbow bumpin’ yours every few seconds.

“you’re gonna break that thing,” he teases.

“then i’ll fix it.”

he smells like sun on denim, hair shampooed and still warm from the morning, with a faint trace of motor oil and a hint of vanilla soap that never quite leaves him.

he shifts, kicks a scuffed shoe against the floor, and the sound reverberates, low and steady, through the wooden boards. the movement is easy, like water over stones, effortless but sure.

the air tastes faintly sweet, sticky even, and you feel it cling to the back of your throat as you watch the ball ricochet. light catches the edges of his grin, the curve of his dimple, the sparkle in his eye. it’s careless and warm, like laughter stretched out over a summer afternoon. the hum of the machine blends with the warmth of him, and it feels like you could stay here forever, letting the light and noise fold over your skin.

he laughs, bright and easy. “reckon you could fix me while you’re at it.”

the scent of cherry cola and hair grease fills the space. you press the button, hit the bumper just right—the lights flare, bells ring. he throws both arms up like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“look at you!” he grins wide, dimple showing. “ain’t nobody better’n my girl at pinball!”

“you say that every time i win,” you say, smiling.

“yeah,” he says softly, “’cause it’s always true.”

the song on the jukebox shifts, low notes crawling across the room. his laughter, soft and easy, hangs in the air like smoke and sugar. the machine hums in rhythm with the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon, the quiet, steady pull of him near.

you lose the next round on purpose, just to see him laugh.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the arcade hums like something half-alive, warm with static and dust. neon light spills down the walls in trembling colors—rose, amber, mint green—making ghosts of everyone who walks by.

it smells like sugar and rust, the sharp bite of electricity under layers of soda syrup, machine oil, the faint sweetness of bubblegum crushed beneath shoes.

PONYBOY leans against the next machine, quiet as the air before rain. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to; his silence has a weight to it. the kind that hums low and steady, like a car idling. there’s the scent of something familiar clinging to him—sun-warmed cotton, the faint sweetness of soap, a trace of cigarette smoke from someone else’s hand. when he shifts his weight, the floor creaks softly under the worn soles of his sneakers.

he watches as the pinball table glows faintly beneath your hands, glass cool beneath your wrists, the metal edges smooth and worn. each time you press the flipper buttons the motion vibrates up your arms, quick and electric. the ball ricochets, catching the light like a star. it’s hypnotic, the way it loops and clinks, the way the whole thing sings back to your rhythm—ding, chime, slam, tilt.

“you really like that machine, huh?” he teases, voice low, a bit shy.

“’course i do,” you mutter, not looking away from the flashing lights. “it’s got rhythm. you just gotta… feel it.”

the metal ball shoots up the ramp, and the sound—clang, ding, click—fills the small room. the air smells like oil and soda syrup. he laughs under his breath, soft and boyish.

he stays where he is, arms crossed loosely, a shadow in amber light. you think of the long stretch of road outside, the smell of rain on asphalt, the way twilight hits the edges of his face when he’s thinking too hard about something he’ll never say.

you press another nickel into the slot, feel its weight disappear. the machine comes alive again. the lights flare gold, brighter than before.

“you’re somethin’ else,” pony says. “ain’t ever seen anyone look at a game like that before.”

you grin, shoulders still hunched in focus. “guess i just like winnin’.”

he stands there a while longer, quiet, then drops a nickel beside you. “guess i’ll play next. see if i can beat ya.”

“you won’t,” you whisper, hitting the flipper. the ball rockets upward, lights bursting like stars.

“will too,” pony shoots back. he watches you, eyes warm and curious.

maybe it ain’t just the high score he wants to chase, he thinks.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the diner hums with the soft ache of evening, that particular stillness that lives between laughter and closing time.

the air smells of fried onions and sugar, of coffee gone cold in heavy ceramic mugs. everything is amber—the walls, the reflections in the window, the halos around the lightbulbs trembling in their dusty glass shells. outside, rain presses against the glass in thin, crooked lines, the kind that never quite break but whisper when they slide down.

the game hums quiet in the corner. JOHNNY watches you from the booth, hands curled around a paper cup. “how come you like that thing so much?” he asks, chocolate eyes glued to the screen.

you shrug. “guess it makes sense. one thing i’m the best at.” your finger points to the side where your initials are engraved as a high scorer without taking your eyes off of the screen. johnny’s impressed by it.

the scent of grease clings to the counters. there’s sugar dried into the cracks of the linoleum. a waitress laughs faintly by the register, a sound that feels far away. the bell above the door rings once, then goes quiet again.

he nods slow. “i get that.”

you hand him a turn. his fingers are careful, almost too gentle; the ball drops fast. he looks up, embarrassed.

“shoot. i’m no good at it.”

“don’t matter,” you whisper. “ain’t about winnin’. it’s just... keepin’ it movin’.”

johnny moves, barely—fingers tapping against his cup, the faint scrape of his boot against tile. the sound folds into the quiet. his reflection flickers beside yours in the machine’s darkened glass—two silhouettes made of shadow and light, blurred by the glow.

the rain grows heavier outside. the windows fog. the lights hum. somewhere a car passes, hissing over wet asphalt, headlights cutting through the mist like small miracles.

you press another coin into the slot, the metal warm from your hand. the machine wakes again with a low, familiar chime. johnny’s eyes lift, just slightly, catching the flicker of color. his expression softens in the glow, and for a heartbeat the light touches his face the way sunlight does when it finds something it wants to keep.

the jukebox hums something sad. he smiles faintly, eyes soft. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

you nudge his arm, half-smile. “takes one to know one.”

the lights flash blue across both your faces. quiet. safe. for once, the noise don’t hurt.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the street smells like asphalt warmed by the sun.

in your hands is a small mechanical game. scratched plastic, tiny levers, a silver ball trapped in a maze. it rattles and clinks with every tilt, every flick. miniature chaos spinning beneath your fingers.

DALLAS leans back against the curb. his jacket catches the late afternoon light. sleeves rolled to show the muscle under his arms. his foot taps. fingers brush over the leather as if he can’t stay still.

“you really get worked up over that piece’a metal,” he drawls.

“maybe i do,” you say, nudging the small device. “’least it don’t talk back.”

“yeah? i could change that.”

his scent presses close—warm leather, soap, cigarette smoke. when he shifts, heat brushes yours. your hands tilt the game. the silver ball skitters across rails, catching glints of sun like sparks.

unfortunately, it gleams a little too hard and you lose control of the small bead, getting it stuck back down at the bottom again.

“real smooth,” he mocks.

you shove his shoulder. “don’t see you tryin’.”

“don’t gotta. i win every game i play.”

he’s so smug you could scream—but then he grabs ahold of the game, hands brushing against your own as he starts to tilt the handheld again.

“see?” he says when he makes it.

you roll your eyes. “cheater.”

he laughs, low and rough. “sweetheart, i don’t cheat. i just play dirty.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you’re halfway through your fifth round of pinball, and TWO-BIT’s been cheerin’ you on like it’s a circus act.

he leans against the wall, jacket loose, boots scuffing the linoleum. he smells like sun, leather, faint tobacco. he watches you tilt and press, eyes glinting with amusement. the light catches the corner of his grin, long shadows stretching across the floor.

the ball races, slams, clatters. tiny bells ring. the metallic song echoes, blending with the distant hum of the jukebox, the murmur of kids passing nickels back and forth. dust swirls in lazy spirals, sunlight catching in every mote.

“look at her go! shoot, i ain’t seen reflexes like that since i dodged my ma’s slipper!”

you laugh so hard you miss the ball.

“dang it, two-bit!”

“hey, don’t blame me for your tragic downfall.”

the air tastes of soda, grease, and faint metal. the lights pulse. the machine hums. dust, sunlight, silver sparks, the hum of electricity, the pull of his presence—it all folds together.

he slides beside you, pops a coin in, and slams both buttons with wild enthusiasm. “see, ya gotta finesse it, dollface. real skill.”

the ball shoots straight into the gutter. he gapes.

you double over laughing. “real skill, huh?”

“machine’s rigged!” he declares.

his laughter fills the air, big and contagious. the room smells of popcorn and cigarette smoke, and he looks so proud even in defeat you can’t help but grin.

“guess i’ll let ya win next time,” he says.

“guess you’ll have to,” you tease.

“oh, darlin’, i’m always up for another round.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the garage smells like hot oil and metal. sunlight slices through dusty windows, landing on scattered wrenches and grease-streaked workbenches. the place humming with old engines and summer air, you’re perched on a stool, fiddlin’ with a half-busted handheld maze game—one of those plastic kinds with the tiny silver ball. STEVE leans against the car hood, cigarette between his lips.

he leans against the workbench, sleeves rolled, forearms smeared with grease. he smells like motor oil, sun-warmed denim, faint cigarette smoke. his gaze follows your hands, intent, sharp, a little impatient—but caught.

“you talk to that thing more’n you talk to me,” he says with a grin.

“’cause it listens,” you shoot back.

he chuckles, smoke curling out his nose. “yeah, sure it does. bet it don’t mouth off neither.”

you shake the toy gently, metal ball rolling through the little maze, clinking faintly. the grease smell mixes with smoke and gasoline; his hands are black with oil, shirt clingin’ to his arms.

the car teeters, hits a jump, and lands just right. a small bell chimes. your chest lifts in a soft laugh. he leans closer, letting the energy of the game ripple through him. leather creaks. sparks from the metal track flash in the sunlight.

“you ever think it’s kinda like fixin’ cars?” you ask.

he snorts. “how you figure?”

“both got parts. both gotta move just right or it don’t work. patience, y’know?”

steve looks at you, grin fading just a little. “huh. didn’t think of it like that.”

you pass him the game. “your turn, grease monkey.”

he squints at it, tongue pokin’ from the corner of his mouth as he tries not to lose the ball. when he drops it straight into a dead end, you laugh again, all bright and unguarded.

Two-Bit always valued loyalty more than love. It made sense, since loyalty was a proof of appreciation, whereas love was a mere emotion, no promise, no real action. His father had told him that he loved him, yet he had left.

Of course, he didn't mind feelings. He liked how it felt when you giggled at his jokes, or how his heart jumped when you fell asleep with your head resting against his shoulder at the movie theater.

Maybe, though, he came to think, maybe love and loyalty can be the same thing after all. And maybe tears can have the same effect as laughter when they come from the right person.

He always knew that he liked you. You just got him like nobody else. Actually, he had a feeling that you knew when he was being funny naturally and when he forced himself to be.

The day you first cried in front of him was they day he knew he loved you, too. It had been after a rumble, at the Curtis brother’s household. They usually went there to tend to their wounds. Sure, he could have gone home… but he just couldn't take his mother and sister seeing him like this. It made him feel guilty.

However, he didn't think you’d be waiting for them at the house. Otherwise, he might have gone somewhere else entirely. Because truthfully, the face you made when you saw him hurt was just as bad.

He had a big gash on his forehead and a blue eye. Even though the others looked just as bad if not even more roughed up, he felt strangely embarrassed when you fawned over him. You didn't waste any time, ushering him to sit and getting a rag to dab the blood from his face.

Only when that was taken care of did you take a moment to breathe. Shakily, he noticed alarmed. He watched as you let yourself fall onto the couch next to him. The room was filled with chatter, everyone was high on adrenaline.

Not him. Not anymore. His heart sank as your shoulders began to shake silently and you avoided his eyes.

“Do I look that scary?” He attempted to brighten the mood, body tense. His face betrayed him, brows pinched together in worry.

You attempted to smile at that, but it looked off. “No. Sorry, I just… I don't like it when you’re hurt.”

Your voice broke, and a tear rolled down your cheek. He felt awful. God, he hated it when you were sad. Usually, your optimism held everyone together.

He didn't know what to say. So instead of pondering on it, he pulled you into his arms.

It was a weird hug, twisted, because you sat right next to him, but very comforting. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of your body against his.

After a while, you looked up at him. And your smile was bright as ever, not dimmed even though your eyes were still glossy from tears.

Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter, and he immediately mourned the lack of distance. “Your eye is swelling closed. Did you know that?”

“Does it look stupid?”

“No.”

He raised a brow.

“…Yes.” You smiled bashfully, and he grinned.

“Well, good thing I’ve still got my charm, right?”

You laughed, hiding your face in his shoulder. God, this girl... His heart jumped. You were gonna be the death of him. Because truthfully, he'd take as many hits as he could if it meant that he could make you laugh. That's probably messed up, but still...

He didn't care about the rumble anymore. They'd won, but this — you smiling into his shirt, body melting against his — this was the greater victory.

Your crying had initially made him feel bad, but only because he didn't want you to be upset. Now, it didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all, no, not like he'd tought, not like he'd expected with how tense and avoidant he got in emotional situations. No, with you... Strangely, he felt cared for.

,,

Darry was goddamn glad you had agreed to take them all in, mainly because you were more-or-less his age and he was no longer the only figure of authority in the group. He was the most helpful, often offering to help you wash the dishes or cook lunch.

Johnny was the most shy one of them all, he had a guarded nature and it seemed something had happened to make him all-the-more anxious and wary around new people. However, he seems to be taking a liking to you by the way he usually drops on his knees under your desk whenever you're working and rests his head on your lap —more often-than-not playing around with your skirt or pants—.

Ponyboy was the youngest, but surpsisingly not the most hyper despite still being practically a puppy. He's very smart and will often correct you just to (affectionately) get on your nerves, he also likes to read your books so you better keep anything with inapropiate content out of his reach if you don't want an earful from his brother Darry.

The most hyper price is won by both Sodapop and Two-Bit, they're just two overeager hybrids that are completely ecstatic about living in your house —often sticking their noses where they shouldn't, but oh well. Soda is very hyper, constantly orbiting around you and asking about everything you do —even when you're just cooking and he has seen Darry cook plenty of time before, he just wants you to talk to him—. There are no thoughts™ inside his pretty head, and also the most reactive to praise. Just slip in a "good boy" or "such a good job!" and he's melting into a puddle of goo in the floor, tail wagging furiously. Two-Bit is hyper too, but more on the restless side of the spectrum. He just needs distractions, put on mickey mouse on the TV or give him a newspaper to tear apart and he's all good 👍.

Steve is more.. on the reserved side, a little more grumpy and stubborn —and the only one to have ever flared his teeth at you—. It's not that he doesn't like you, at the contrary:; he damn loves you for taking the whole gang in, but that's just his personality. He'll show how grateful he is by helping you out in subtle things, like picking up the toys from the others and placing them all in one place so you don't go crazy when it's time to put them in their box, or by making sure no one —Dallas— steals anything personal from you.

Dallas is the biggest deal out of them all though, he's just completely unhinged. He doesn't follow your rules and is constantly going out of his way just to do specifically what you told him not to —thank god that Darry's there to keep him in his place from time to time—. He's a total bastard, and is always being a bitch about things and also always saying comments about your body and how hot you are. Also you're pretty sure a few panties of yours have gone missing.. But, in the end, at least your house is not empty anymore, neither silent, constantly echoed in: "mommy!" that's Johnny. "ma'!" that one's Steve. "mommaaaa!" that's Ponyboy complaining about something, no doubts. "miss mommy!" those two are, no doubt, Two-Bit and Soda. "mama~" that damn sing-song tone is Dallas'. And yes, Johnny, you can read him a book even though he's clearly able to do it himself. Yes, Steve, you know where his shirt is, but he can't go around shirtless like that.Yes, Ponyboy, you can give him a can of coke even tho he's obviously able to get it himself. Yes, Soda and Two-Bit, you can put the channel in which they stream mickey mouse™ even if they already know which it is. And yes—oh, actually no, Dallas, you won't shower him, he can do it himself.

Ring-ring-ring.

It was your room's personal phone, you were one of the lucky ones who was born into money. You were one of your many gal-friends to have a personal phone, so it was something fun to talk about. But just because you were from the West side, didn't mean you didn't hang with greasers. Sure, you dressed like most girls your age, crisp dresses with dress shoes, but when you would go out on the weekends, you would wear tennis shoes and a non fancy dress. You sure as hell didn't act like a greaser girl, you weren't a broad who wore too much makeup and wore leather pants and swore too much and smoked too much...

Ring-ring-ring...

Your phone rang once more, you picked it up as you put on your mascara. "Hello! Y/n speaking!" You had a date tonight, with the one and only Keith Two-Bit Matthews. Sure, your christian,country-style father would hate you for dating a greaser like him, but he was yours and you didn't give two bits about what he thought. He didn't know, he thought you would be out with your gals at a party or something. Something is right. "Hey, baby! When'd you'd like me to pick you up?" It was Two-Bit, his voice practically melting you. You loved when he called you baby, especially in that tone. "6:45, I don't really care. Just let me get my makeup on." You heard a slight sigh come from the line. "Baby, you know you don't need makeup." You knew he didn't care what you looked like, but you cared about not trying to Embarrass him in public with your bare face. "I know, 6:45. I love you." He chuckled into the phone, "Okay, Ms. Bossy." You felt like slapping him through the phone, he sure did show his love through jokes. You waited to hang up until he said 3 simple words. "I love you, y/n. See you soon!" He gingerly sang as he hung up.

He pulled up about 6:43. His car was parked a little ways down so your parents would see. "Bye Dad!" You yelled as you quickly ran out of the house, swiftly closing the door behind you as you ran up to him. You were slightly taller than him, even with tennis shoes on. He didn't mind, he thought it was cute. "It's Jack and the beanstalk!" Steve would jeer around you 2. The whole gang,instead of Darry, would join in, you didn't mind. You would even join in sometimes. After you ran up to him, you swung your arms around his neck. He was able to pick you up, even though the height did make it challenging, he was strong enough to get you off the ground. You kissed him on the forehead, a slight imprint of your lipstick lingering underneath his bang. You wiped it off quickly, before he would make it worse. "You shouldn't wear that lipstick, makes kissing a lot harder." Two-Bit loved that lipstick on you, he just didn't like how it smudged so easily and stained slightly. He got his makeup knowledge from his little sister, she would practice on him sometimes.

He drove you to a drive-in movie. The Nightly Double was the hottest place on the weekends, and they just so happened to be showing one of your favorite movies. Two-Bit parked and yall laid back on his car seats, his arm finding his way to your shoulder. You loved when he did things like this, a slight touch that sayed "I love you" instead of "Let's makeout in the backseat." He turned his head and looked at you, "This is your favorite movie, right?" You weren't watching the movie, you were watching him. You forgot he was talking to you and all you gathered was an "Oh yeah, I love it." He stared you back in your eyes, his beautiful grey eyes meeting yours. "I'm not a movie, baby." You smirked, shaking your head a little bit. "You are in my mind, I could watch you all day." It was true, if you weren't living in the West side and out of school, you would follow him around everywhere. It never bothered you that he was almost 19 and was still a junior, his grades never impacted how you saw him. " I could say the same thing." He came in for a kiss and you met him there, the movie playing in the background as you kissed eachother like no one was looking. Which you wanted to be true, but then you heard some hollering outside his car's window. Two-Bit pulled back and looked out the window, it was Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dallas. Ponyboy pointed at Two's face and laughed so hard, it was like he would explode. You looked at his face as he went to look in the car's mirror. Red lipstick was all over his face, smudged from cheek to cheek. "Oh, sh-" he was about to swear, but he tried his best not to around you. "Shoot! I forgot about your lipstick..." He grabbed a random cloth in the car and wet it with his tounge , scrubbing his face to get it off. It was off in little to no time and Two-Bit used his extra time to beat Pony's, Johnny's and Dallas' heads in. You laughed so hard as you saw the scene unfold, it was pure cinema.

The date ended and you had a blast, kissing Two-Bit goodbye as you stepped out his car. "I love you, baby!" He shouted from the drivers seat, grabbing your arm and kissing you again. "I love you too, Two-Bit. Goodnight." You blew a kiss and walked to your front door, you grabbed a small compact mirror and made sure your makeup looked fine. Looked okay. You walked in and your father was out on the couch, many bottles of beer by his recliner. You went over and picked them up, the smell of alcohol lingering near his fingers. . After your parents divorce, your dad was never the same. He started drinking, alot. You'd gotten used to the smell of beer and picking up various cans and bottles from around the house, it was a regular chore at this point. Your dad didn't have a place to live after the divorce, so you let him stay with you. You were 18 and already had your own place, thankful for your mother's money and good job.

You knew a lot about how to care for people, especially when they were drunk or something. You knew the right medicine that worked, you knew what to say, and you sure always had a spare room for someone to stay in. And that's how you found Two-Bit.

---- -🥤- ----

Your dad just moved in, and he would drink every night. So much to the point, that you had to send him to the hospital so he could get away. You didn't drink, and you never wanted too. You saw how it could ruin relationships and people, and you never wanted that to happen. It was never your drinks he drank, he always bought some at the gas station after work and drank every drop. "Dad, you don't need that. You need to stop, I can call a friend or something!" Your father would lock himself in a room and bring the living room's TV with him. He would usually pass out after the 5th one, but tonight he was in the hospital. He had been in there for a while, maybe a week or so. You sent him there because he drank too much one night, and you couldn't watch it happen so you sent him to a place with no alcohol. The hospital. So you sat there, the TV playing and eating your dinner. Some food you got from Rusty's.

---- -🥤- ----

You finished your food and decided to read, you normally wouldn't but you were past bordem. You use to have a boyfriend, but he broke up with you for another girl. Her name was Marcia, or something, but you couldn't care if her name was Tammy or Jess! You hated guys from the West side, they only looked at their girlfriends for banging and other things. So you would hang around the East side, making some trips around the DX or the Dingo or other places . You made friends with Sandy and Sylvia, they were nice. Well, Sylvia wasn't a good girlfriend to Dallas. But Sandy was awful good to Sodapop, she wasn't the type of girl you'd think was a greaser. And then you met Evie, who was a friend of Sandy's and you two hit it off. Sometimes you would go with them to a football game, so you knew Steve and Soda well. You knew some of the gang, Ponyboy, Darrel, and Two-Bit. You didn't talk to Dallas or Johnny because they were never around. Sometimes you would walk over with Sandy and the others to the Curtis' home and wait around. Mainly just so Sandy didnt have to walk around herself to talk to Soda, same for Evie. Ponyboy would always try and talk to you, even though you were 18 and he was 14, you bet he thought he had a chance. He tried inviting you to the movies with him one day, " Sorry, Pony. But I don't date guys who are still in junior high. We could go as friends?" Even then he still took it, it was better for him to at least be with you. You got there at his house and he tried to look dashing, with his hair more put-together and wearing an unstained sweat shirt. "Hey, you know what?" You said, holding your hand out. "How about this is a practice date? I show you what you should do with a lady, and what you shouldn't do." His eyes sparked up. "Really? Okay!" He took your hand and you went on with y'alls practice date. At the end, it was pretty nice getting to tell a boy what to do, especially when it's about how to treat a girl. He walked you over to your house and you gave him a kiss on the cheek, his ears turned red immediately. "Thank you for the date, any girl would be so lucky to have you." You smiled wide, knowing you probably made Ponyboy's year. "Oh, yeah! Um, thank you!" He waved and ran home, it was for the best he ran. No one wanted the Socs jumping him.

---- -🥤- ----

You seemed to have fallen asleep, probably because you couldn't read a book for more than 5 minutes at a time, but you woke up when the TV shut off. You couldn't sleep without noise going on, so you opened your eyes and the lights were out. You got up and looked out the window, the wind was blowing and there was lighting all around. "Let's see if I can reach Sandy, maybe the phone would work." You muttered, trying to get to the phone through the dark. You picked it up and dialed her number, nothing happened. You knew nothing would, but you could always try.

You searched around for a light source, a lantern and a couple flashlights worked for your living room. A couple minutes later, the lights came back on and it looked like you were about to summon a demon. The first thought you had was to call Sandy, she answered after the second ring. "Hey, Sandy! Are you alright?" "Yeah, y/n, just a little scared. Thank goodness the lights are back on. I've tried calling Soda, but their phone won't ring! I'm scared, really." You were too, not for yourself, but for the gang. You knew those old houses in the East side wouldnt be so good against a storm like this. "I have a good car, full on gas. I'll drive over and see if I can take them to my house. I'll get you if you wanted?" Sandy stood there on the line for a couple seconds. "Thank you! And I don't need to, I'll be fine. If it gets bad, I'll call. Good luck, y/n!" You hung up and grabbed your boots and raincoat, grabbing your car keys to your biggest car. Sure, it was your dads, but you didn't care.

It took you a while to get to their house, and as you arrived, there was a tree on their roof. "Holy mother of the Good God Almighty." You drove as close as you could and ran to the door, you didn't knock. They wouldn't hear you anyway. You swung open the door to see Johnny, Two-Bit, Ponyboy, Sodapop, Steve, Darry and Dallas all in one corner of the room. Dallas was calm and collected, smoking as he watched the rain poor into the house. Ponyboy was freaking out as Soda and Darry tried comforting him. " I'm taking y'all to my house. In the car." You demanded. No one hesitated, except for Dally. "How'd I know you don't just wanna sleep with me?" You slapped him as hard as you could across the face. "There." Dallas felt the spot where you slapped him. "Fair." He said, walking into the backseat. Two-Bit was in the front, it looked like he'd been reeled out for hours. "What's with Two-Bit?" You asked as you started the car, driving up the road towards your house. "He was drunk when the storm started, passed out almost cold when the tree fell." Ponyboy stated, looking pale and wideyed. "Mm." You nodded, keeping your eyes on the road. You got to your house and it was almost a stampede,you had to run as quickly as you could before anyone else got there. Darry was last, he was holding Two-Bit in his arms as he walked in. "Set him on the couch, I know what to do." You said, pointing to the couch. "And take off your wet clothes for goodness sake!" You screamed as you saw Steve laying on your fabric chair. Soda didn't get what you had said and started taking off his shirt, you turned away quickly. "I mean when I get you clothes! Shirt back on, Soda."

You got everyone a fresh pair of clothes, all were your dad's. Some of his shirts were a little tight for Darry, and all of them were huge on Johnny. You looked at Two-Bit, who was laying unconscious on your couch. "You said you know what to do?" Darry questioned, his arms crossed as he picked at his fingers. "Yeah, my dad does this all the time. He's in the hospital cause of it too, I'll show yall to yalls rooms. "

You showed the Curtis brothers their room, it was the biggest. Steve wanted to be with Soda so you let him, the room was packed but it was alright. Then Johnny and Dallas shared a room, since it was the only one you really had left. "Where's Two gonna stay?" Johnny asked quietly. You didn't think of that. "Oh, um, the living room, he can be on the couch." You replied. "He's going to be alright, right?" "Yep, you bet he will." You reassured Johnny,giving him a light hug. "Now, all of y'all better be sleeping! Or you'll have to cook breakfast at your own place!" Everyone groaned, like it was so bad to get good sleep. "Wait, y/n. Did Sandy call you? And is she okay?" Soda asked politely, "Yes, she tried calling yall and when you didn't answer, she called me. She's alright, I asked for her to stay, but she said she was good. She loves you. " Man, you hated saying that for someone else, it made you think of when you and Randy were together." Im glad, I love her too. Goodnight. " He closed the door and all you heard were" Ooooh!" s from Steve. You knew Soda would belt him for it.

You got downstairs to see Two-Bit laying on the couch, like he was before. Thankfully the guys were able to dress him into warm clothes, so you wouldn't go through that weird embarrassment. You grabbed a pillow and propped his head on it, his eyes opened slightly. "Hey, it's you. My girlfriend." He said softly. Your eyes widened in surprise as you heard what he said. You decided to ignore it and asked him a simple question, "Hey, you okay?" He shook his head to the best of his ability. "No, but you look fine." He tried to smirk,but failed to and it looked like he was in pain. You went over to the kitchen and grabbed an Advil, a glass of cold water, and a damp towel. You put the towel on his forehead and set the water and medicine down. You turned off most of the lights in the room, leaving only some lamps and the TV on. You tuned it to some random channel, which happened to be Mickey Mouse. "My favorite, thank you baby." Why did he keep saying things like that? You hardly knew him, and you sure weren't dating. He tried sitting up, but you gently pushed him back to where he was laying. "Rest. Just rest." You grabbed the fluffy blanket off the chair you were standing next to, and layed it on top of him. You tucked him in on both sides, the familiar smell of alcohol In his breath. The cheap whiskey smell was all too familiar to you, your father would smell the same too. "You take good care of me." He tried kissing your cheek as you leaned over him, tucking in the sides of his blanket to the couch, so he wouldnt fall if he moved. "I love you." You stepped away from him, the smell of beer hovering over your cheek. You wanted to raise your voice at him, and tell him to shape up. But you knew that wouldn't help, you learned that from experience. You just brushed his hair out of his eyes and readjusted the towel on his face. "I'll be right back, okay?"

You went to your room and passed the rooms that had the gang in them. You opened the door to Johnny and Dally's room, Johnny was on the bed while Dallas was sleeping on the floor. Then you went to the rest of the guy's room, you opened it softly and Darry almost immediately opened his eyes. "Just checking in" You mouthed. Darry nodded and fell back asleep, you looked at Ponyboy and Soda, they were both in the bed and were sleeping soundly. You looked at Steve, and Steve being Steve, he was shirtless and only had his boxers on. You turned away, regretting even checking in. You grabbed your pillow and blanket from your bed and headed back to the living room. You set up on the recliner next to the couch, the one that your father would get drunk in. Two-Bit was finally out, breathing slowly as you kissed his forehead. The smell of beer heavily rising as he exhaled sleepy breathes. You laid down on the recliner, looking at him while you fell asleep. You kept waking up sporadically, checking up on Two-Bit everytime. "Dad... No...." Two-Bit muttered one time. "Please.. I'm sorry... No.. Come... Back.." You pulled up a chair, stroking his hair softly as you sat right next to him. His hand drowsily found it's way to your hand, gripping it tightly. "Don't worry, sis.... It's. Alright." You felt like crumbling, it was too was to sad see someone say things like that. You held up his hand, and gave it a small kiss. Then you sat there; holding his hand while he slept, watching Mickey Mouse. Know you knew why Two-Bit loved it so much. You stayed there until sunrise.

You heard someone move Upstairs, it was probably Darry. Then, coming down the stairs, was Darrel. He came to your side as you kept combing Two-Bit's hair with your fingers. "He's alright?" Darry asked, looking at Two sleeping still on the couch, the only thing moving was his chest. "Yep, he's getting better. Wait, can I ask you something?" "Sure." You collected a couple sentences. "Last night,he was calling me his girlfriend and baby and all those things. Does he really think of me like that?" You weren't mad or anything, just curious.

"Well, I remember him being a little drunk one night and saying he was jealous of Ponyboy. He didn't clarify, all he really said 'If I was Ponyboy, I would be luckiest man alive. Even if its fake. ' and we didn't know what he meant." Darry was scratching his back, then he sat down on a chair. "The practice date, me and Ponyboy had a practice date. That's what he means. But also, he's never truly met me, at least enough to fall in love! How would he know about me enough to think of me like this?" Darry held back a chuckle. "Well, maybe it's because Pony wouldn't stop talking about that practice date. You mightve said it was practice, but he sure as hell thought it was real. He was practically floating when he walked into our house, exploding with the fact that you kissed him." You rolled your eyes slightly. "It was a kiss on the cheek! I was showing him what to do with a girl on a date, so he doesn't end up like trash." "Well, you sure made him go over the moon." Darry got up . "Hey, I can make breakfast. You need to watch Two-Bit anyway." You did want to spend more time with Two, you mightve liked, no, loved being around him. "Okay, use anything you want. Fridge and Pantry are open to all." You responded, watching Darry look at all the food you had in your fridge. "Any of this? You sure?" "Never mind, starve. I'm joking! Yes, silly." You joked. Darry shrugged and started pulling out all the breakfast food you had.

You saw Two-Bit move slightly, he was feeling his head and found the damp towel. You handed him the Advil and water. "Take it." He did as you said. He looked around at the new environment he was in, then he stared back at you. "Hey." He said cooley, trying to act tuff. "Hey." You responded back, smiling as you made eye contact. He smiled back too, you could tell he didn't want to, he wanted to be the tuff and tough greaser he thought you wanted. "Was it true?" You asked, your voice soft. He furrowed his brows slightly. "Last night. You said you loved me?" His face went flat, and his eyes widened a little. He must have noticed Darry cooking, because he started darting between you and him. "Um. Truth or what you probably want to hear?" Two-Bit sighed. "The truth, Keith. The truth." He looked at his hands, then back at you. "Yes. That's the truth." You were expecting a "No, I was just drunk." like what you got from your dad. You started to smile, staring at his now-red face as he tried looking away. Darry looked away from cooking and saw how awkward yall truly looked. "You guys look like two anxious foals. Say something or I will get Ponyboy or Sodapop to make you go on a cheesy date." You and Two-Bit sighed synonymously,looking up at each other as you did. Smiling as you stared into each others eyes."So... I might want to say that I feel the same way." You mumbled, fiddling with your nails. "Oh. Well, I was hoping you were free Saturday?" Two-Bit asked softly. "Just so happens I am." You said through a smile.