~ Thanatophobia ~ Dallas Winston x Reader

|| 3 ||

Stephanie Randle's POV ||

I walked over to the bathrooms to find Dally. "Dal!" I called out since I wasn't sure what bathroom he was in. I got no response so I just went to the corner to have a smoke. I was taking my cigarette out until i saw a door open.

"hey steph, can you help me get this stain out?" Dallas popped his head out of the door.

"yea of course" I put the un lighten cigarette in my pocket and head over to the bathroom. I open the door wider so i could get in. i shut the door and walked passed Dally chuckling a little.

"Dallas Winston, you gotta learn to keep your mouth shut" I say while smiling. I just get a sarcastic look back from him. "Alright take your shirt off" I say while looking at him. "Why?" He asked me. no way he just said that. "are you that dumb. maybe so i can wash your shirt" he rolls his eyes while taking his shirt off.

Being a mature human, i tried not to look at his bare chest even though i imagined it to be full of abs. Though, I had to look at him somehow. So too bad, am I right? I put out my hand waiting for him to hand me his shirt.  I hear him laugh for a second.

"You can look ya know? I know you wanna Steph." He says. I can just feel his smirk in his sentence.  I turn my head to look at him.

"Stop being an idiot and grow up." I roll my eyes and snatch his shirt out of his hands and start to wash it under the sink. I put soap on it and the dark liquid slowly washes away.

"Steph, I don't want you going to the rumble tomorrow" I hear Dallas quietly say to me. I look up and I can't help but to look at his bare chest for a second. My god. Someone help me It's getting hot in this bathroom. But I answered him "why not dallas, im perfectly capable of beating those uptight dicks asses"

Dallas Winston's POV ||
I watch as Stephanie takes the stain out of my shirt. I can't help but stare at her for a couple of seconds. Honestly, I've never seen someone so fucking perfect in my life. But my mind keeps going off to something else, the rumble that Steph thinks she's going to but I'm not gonna let that happen ever in a million years.

So I tell her, "Steph, I don't want you going to the rumble tomorrow." She looks up slowly, pausing to look at my bare chest. I smirk to myself as she looks up to me. "Why not dallas, im perfectly capable of beating those uptight dicks asses" she responds. I laugh at her remark. She's so hot when she's mad. "I know you are. It's just, I don't know, I don't want you to leave Tulsa with a single scar on your body." I explain. But it's much deeper than that. I couldn't let her get hurt. I know how we first interacted with each other earlier today, but i think I'm starting to care about her a little more each hour. Then she says something that got my attention.

"How about if I beat you in an arm wrestle, I still get to go. But if you beat me, then I'll back down, no argument." She smirks at me. I return it and say "deal"

Stephanie Randle's POV ||

I dry my hands on my jeans and step closer to the sink, narrowing my eyes at Dally. "You're gonna regret this," I taunt, rolling my shoulders like I'm warming up for a real fight. He just chuckles, shaking his head.

"I think you forget who you're dealing with, sweetheart." His voice is smug as he flexes his fingers, cracking his knuckles like this is the easiest bet he's ever made.

I set my elbow down on the sink, waiting for him. He smirks but follows suit, gripping my hand in his. His touch is warm, rough, calloused from all the fights and trouble he's gotten himself into. I try not to think about it too much.

"You ready?" I ask.

"Born ready, babe," he says, grinning.

We count down—three, two, one—and I push with all I've got. At first, Dally barely budges, his smirk growing wider as he holds me steady. But I've never been one to back down, and I sure as hell won't start now. I grit my teeth and push harder, feeling my muscles burn.

Dallas lets out a slow whistle. "Damn, Steph. You been lifting cars when I wasn't looking?"

"Shut up and focus, Winston," I snap, adjusting my grip.

He finally starts to push back, and I feel my arm begin to give way. I let out a frustrated growl, digging my heels in. Our eyes meet, and for a second, I forget we're even arm wrestling. His smirk fades just a little, and something flashes in his eyes—something that makes my stomach do a somersault.

And that's when he slams my hand down against the sink.

"Shit," I mutter, breathing hard.

Dally grins triumphantly, keeping his grip on my hand a second longer than necessary. "Looks like you're sittin' this one out, Steph."

I glare at him, trying not to let my frustration show. "Best two outta three?"

He laughs, letting go of my hand. "Nah, a deal's a deal. You ain't goin' to the rumble, babe."

I huff, crossing my arms. "I don't see why it's such a big deal. It's just a fight."

His expression shifts—just slightly—but enough for me to notice. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, before finally muttering, "Yeah... that's what we all thought last time."

I don't have to ask what he means. We both know what happens, how these fights never end clean. And for the first time, I realize this isn't just Dally trying to boss me around. He's actually worried.

I let out a slow breath. "Fine. I won't go."

He blinks. "Just like that?"

I shrug. "Don't make me change my mind, Winston."

Dallas studies me for a second, then smirks. "Smart girl."