Shivering With Fire (Dallas Winston x Reader)

Shivering With Fire

Disclaimer!: This an Outsiders fanfiction, I own nothing but the plot.

You were walking down the street with your friend Kathleen, the night slowly dimming upon the two of you. You both were walking back from the Nightly Double, you in your (favorite color) rhinestone cat-eye glasses, light (2nd favorite color) blouse which was tucked under your plaid (3rd favorite color) knee-length tight skirt. The outfit was finished off with your small black high-heels. You usually didn't dress so nice, typically in capris and a shirt but tonight you hung out with Kathleen's boyfriend Lance and his friend who always would hit on you, Alan. They should have given the two of you a ride, but they were too busy stumbling over each other and some other girl's at the theater. "Hey, at least we got a free movie outta' it, huh?" her pink lips curled, indicating her dimpled smile. Kathleen had long dirty blonde locks that were always curled at the ends.
Laughing a bit, you nodded in response and pushed your glasses up the brim of your nose. Walking back from the Nightly Double wasn't the best idea since you had to pass through a small section of the west side of Tulsa; Greaser turf. They usually didn't cause any commotion with Socs unless provoked, except one Greaser from the Curtis Gang whom you only knew about from overhearing conversations about him between Lance and Alan.
His name was Dallas, or something like that. All you knew was that he was a player and got what he wanted, when he wanted it. "Thanks for walking with me." Kathleen put a hand on your shoulder. You were so busy looking down at your feet and thinking that you didn't realize the two of you were already back onto her street. Kathleen lived on the bordering line between East and West, so it was either full of Socs or Greasers. You nodded and waved bye, watching her run down the stone pathway and sneaking inside the front door.
You sighed and continued walking, taking a turn to the right and noticing bright car lights flashing before you. Then you recognized a familiar blue Mustang; Lance's car. You rolled your eyes when the tires swerved before halting abruptly to your side. You looked in through the window, Alan was passed out in the back seat drunk as ever. "Where's - hick - Kathleen?" his words were audible, yet terribly slurred and full of spit.
"Home, why are you driving in your condition?" you asked, reaching for the keys so you could take over but he smacked your hand away quickly.
"Shtop." he commanded and swung open the car door, obliviously hitting you in the hip. "Get in, I'm gonna - hick - drive you home." he assured you, stepping on the gas as soon as you were in and the door was closed.
The street lamps zoomed by as he sped down the main street, driving past the shacks people in the West side of Tulsa lived in. You never actually really even spoken to one, they seemed pretty harmless. At least, when Socs weren't around. Then again, you've only every seen them when they were around Socs so how would you know? Interrupted from your thought, you noticed the excessive amount of speed and stopping control until you realized Lance was practically asleep behind the wheel. "Shit!" you whispered, reaching over and pushing your foot against the brakes and holding tightly with your left hand onto the steering wheel. The car slowed and once at a complete cease of movement, you took the keys from the ignition and sighed in relief. Lance and Alan were now both blowing Z's and you were left alone in the West side with no protection but two past out, wasted Soc boys and a hot-rod.
It was quiet except the musical crickets outside. For a second, you considered just sleeping in the car for the night until one of them woke up tomorrow and then you thought about just walking back to Kathleen's. But that wasn't going to happen, you had no idea where you were. You rubbed your forehead in frustration, stepping out and shutting the door. You leaned against the Mustang and looked at your shadow for a few moments until you built up the nerve to ask for some help in hope some kid from your school who knew you were Soc material wouldn't answer.
Behind a waist-height fence was a two-story brown house with two room lights on. A downstairs room which seemed to look like the living room area considering the vague silhouette of a couch, and an upstairs light which may be a bedroom. You pushed the fence to see if it was open, and sure enough the gate allowed you onto the property. You ran a hand through your (hair color) hair delicately and approached the door. The television was on loud, and it sounded like cartoons were playing. You heard some voices and occasional yowling of enjoyment and fun.
Hesitating, you knocked on the door a few times in hope whoever was inside would hear. After you stood behind the door in low hopes, a small boy with bleach-blond hair swung open the door. He looked like he expected you to walk inside, until he saw you weren't... Well, whoever he was expecting. "Uhh..." he stuttered for a bit, until turning around to look back inside and look back at you.
"Hi," you began, hoping to break the silence. "I uh, I was wondering if you could help me..." you pointed behind you and stepped aside to reveal the crookedly parked Mustang. "My friends got drunk and passed out while driving, could you-"
"Pony, who's at the door?!" you heard a loud monotone voice call, and you paused your explaining when you heard booming footsteps come closer until the door was swung open wider. "Who's this?"
The boy, presumably "Pony" shrugged and stared at the car in awe. You could tell they were Greasers, because the taller more darker haired one had his hair slicked back and wore a tight black shirt to reveal his rippling muscles underneath. He had rather shining green eyes, and you smiled a bit. "My names (first name). My friends were drunk and fell asleep so I took over the wheel and-"
"Right." he nodded and reached for your hand. "Come on in." he smiled nonchalantly and pulled you inside. The house smelled like cigarettes and chocolate cake, maybe a slight aura of alcohol mixed in. You held your hands together in front of you sweetly, looking around the house as the man who let you in told you to wait there. In the living room, there were three boys; two of them were on the couch leaning over to arm wrestle on the coffee table and the other was on the floor drinking a bottle of beer and eating something while watching Mickey Mouse. You bit your bottom lip and turned to try and talk to the Pony kid, but he passed you and waltzed into the living room.
You sighed a bit and rubbed your arm uncomfortably. There was laundry everywhere, and the narrow staircase was littered with newspapers, shoes, shoe boxes, clothing tags, and other items. The man walked back down and smiled, holding out a hand. "I'm Darry, nice to meet you. So that's your car out there?" he asked, lifting his brows.
You shook your head. "No um, it's my friend's boyfriend's car. He picked me up but-"
"Was too drunk to keep driving. It's alright." he said, finishing your sentence for you. He seemed a bit cautious around you, and you got the sense he didn't know entirely what he thought about you yet. "I usually don't say this to many girls around here, especially not ones like yourself. But I wouldn't mind lending you my living room for the night until the morning when it's safer to get home." he offered, crossing his arms.
You nodded in acceptance and clasped together your hands. "Thanks, I won't be a bother." you promised and he chuckled a bit, still paranoid a bit as he led you to the entryway of the living room.
"Hey, guys." he called and everyone turned, the boy watching television muting it. Once Darry had their attention and pointed at you. "This is (first name), she broke down and I'm letting her stay here for just tonight." he kept out the drunken friends part, in hopes of saving more explaining.
One of the boys turned which was wearing a shoulder-cut jean jacket and had dark brown hair with a strand to the front. "I can fix it up." he offered but Darry shook his head.
"It's fine Steve." he looked back to you. "(First name), that's Steve, Sodapop, Two-Bit, and Ponyboy." they all rose their hands as their names were called, and then quickly returned to their previous activities. Darry soon left you to be. You awkwardly took a seat on the furthest end of the couch giving space between you and Steve. You couldn't tell if they weren't interacting with you because they were too busy with their own things, or just avoiding you like they did to every Soc. Gee, I wonder what Kathleen would say if I told her I stayed the night with some Soc family... You wondered, eyes glinting carelessly at the television. You leaned an arm on the couch, chin-in-hand as you stared aimlessly at the wall and occasionally glanced at Sodapop, mostly only because he was quite attractive for a Greaser.
You didn't know where Darry went, but all you knew was that you were hungry and tired and wanted to be home. Behind you, there was a loud thud of boots hitting the floor and shaking the house as everyone paused themselves to look over as well as you. There was a tall boy standing at the end of the staircase, maybe about 17 or 18. He had dark brown hair with a few strands here-and-there dangling across his forehead, he had an unforgettable malicious smile and big brown eyes that summoned your (eye color) orbs. "What's shakin', guys?" he laughed, clapping together his hands as he walked towards the living room with no notice of you.
"The whole house after that stunt!" Ponyboy exclaimed from the corner of the room, laughing a bit as the Greaser lit a cigarette and inhaled the grey smoke.
"Yeah, how about next time you fall through the floor, eh Dally?" Two-Bit spat, laughing and clicking to a different channel to skip commercials.
Your eyes widened a bit when you heard Two-Bit call the Greasers name. Dally. That sure sounded familiar, like the Dallas kid. Then you realized his physical appearance matched rather perfectly with what you imagined Dallas to be like from the descriptions you were told. You kept quiet, and although Dallas was a tan and muscle-flexing guy himself, it was beyond stupid for a Soc to be talking to white long-haired greasy trash like himself. After all, you knew that he was a player and looking for nothing more than one thing... "Who's the broad?" he flicked the ashes of his cigarette of onto the floor and looked at you, not very pleasingly either.
"(First name)." Sodapop answered, him and Steve kicking back now and both drinking Coke's.
Dally then smiled crookedly, waltzing up and jumping over the back of the couch and slouching beside you. Stiffening, you kept your hands neatly tucked into your pocket. You could tell by the way both Ponyboy and Two-Bit were looking at you guys that they knew Dallas was up to no good - and you believed it. Two-Bit sighed and turned Mickey back on while Ponyboy got up and ran upstairs; probably to his bedroom. "That's a nice name." he nonchalantly said, taking a quick drag from his smoke before burning it out in the glass tray on the coffee table and leaning up to you. Pretending to yawn, his arm found itself around you instantaneously. "So, (First name). What's it like?"
You swallowed hard and only quickly lifted a hand to fix your glasses. "What's what like?"
"Being a big-jugged, (hair color) haired, money-filled, dolly Soc like?" he didn't give you time to make a quiet retort. Sodapop and Steve were watching from afar in case things got out of hand, and you mentally thanked them. "That's your hot-rod out there isn't it?" You shook your head, about to explain but his finger pushed up onto your lips.
Before he was able to go on torturing you, Sodapop stood up and walked over. "C'mon Dal'." he said, hands in pocket. "Leave her alone, she's only here for the night. If Sylvia sees this ya' know-"
"Let 'er see, huh?" he laughed a bit and retreated his arm from your neck. His boots kicked up onto the table and he kept his eyes locked onto you even though you refused to look back. "Sylvia's my girlfriend." you could tell he was talking to you now. "I know, don't feel too bad." he heavily patted your back and you choked a bit on air. He stood up and avoided bumping into Sodapop as he exited the living room and into the kitchen.
You glanced up and quietly thanked him. Sodapop smiled and sat back next to Steve. You sighed a little and felt a bit more relaxed after having that dealt with. At the door, there was a bit knocking before a short girl with black hair and bright blue eyes walked in. You looked over and recognized her immediately; her name was Sylvia and she was in your class. She wore a skimpy short black skirt, red high heels that went up to her knees, and a leopard patterned sweater over a tank-top. She looked completely like someone you'd find working off the corners of the streets - that's Sylvia for you. She had dark makeup that went around her eyelids like circles and blue eyeliner on her waterline finished with her eyelashes clumped in mascara. She was chewing gum menacingly and shut the door loudly behind her. "Where's Dallas?" she asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.
You saw Darry emerge from the kitchen, looking annoyed with Sylvia already. "He said he's feeling off." Darry tells her, but Sylvia rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.
"Yeah? Well you can tell the jerk to flog his log if that's what he wants instead of his own chick." she says and searched her purse messily for something. She eventually pulls out a golden chain necklace, and by now everyone's attention is on her. Even Ponyboy came down to watch what was happening. You had no idea where Dallas was. She threw the necklace to the floor and stepped on it, crushing the clasp. "Tell 'em I said I'll break every last one of his cheap-ass necklaces he gives very broad he meets! I'm goin' to Buck's tonight if he wants me." she finished, spitting out her gum into her palm and sticking it to the wall before storming out and strutting down the street with two girls who waited outside.
You tried not to smile, if these were the kinds of girls Dallas liked then you were safe. For now. "Gee," Sodapop remarked and looked at Darry in awe.
"Ya' think Dally will want her gum?" Two-Bit grinned, everyone laughing including yourself. Greaser houses sure did have a lot more action in them then yours did in one night.
Everyone stopped their laughter as soon as Dallas walked back in eating a bowl of icecream and grinning down at the chain. "Hey, hey, thank's Darry." he slapped Darry's back and kicked the chain, using a napkin to pluck her gum off the wall and throw it out the door as he screamed something inaudible out the door towards Sylvia. He looked back at you and winked, and even though you hated him for what he did no matter how terribly Sylvia was, it sent chills through your bones and butterflies in your stomach. You even blushed a bit before standing up and walking towards Darry.
"Can I use the restroom?" you asked him, biting your lip and glancing at Dally who leaned against the wall with his bowl of icecream at hand and the other clasping a beer bottle. Darry smiled and nodded, leading you down a short hall that ended with two doors. One was a closet and the other was the bathroom. You thanked him, locking the bathroom door behind you and looking at yourself in the mirror. You began undressing, and started up the water. It wasn't very warm like the water at your house, but it was good enough. You stepped in and briefly washed yourself off. You didn't spend too much time in the shower before you stepped out and looked for a towel. When you realized the rack was empty, you called for Darry but it was too loud for anyone to hear. Assuming they were in the closet across the hall, you quietly stepped out and tip-toed to the closet to get yourself a clean towel.
You opened the door and reached up for a towel, using your other hand to cover your breasts. It was hard to see without your glasses on, but you were able to knock one down and wrap yourself in it. You shut the door and quickly turned to get back into the bathroom but you bumped into someone. Your face burnt red and you squinted as you looked up to make out the person.
It was fucking Dallas.
"Gee-wiz, doll." he commented and put a hand on your shoulder. "You're blind as a damn bat." he laughed a little bit and looked at your narrowed eyes.
You thought a bit, not sure what to say. "Yeah well... You shouldn't be standing right behind someone. Especially a lady." you said.
"Oh, then pardon me." he excused himself, sarcastically pouting. "But, the best part of a lady is what's behind her." he grinned and he wrapped his arms around you, reeling you in. You wanted to scream for Darry or Sodapop to tell him off but Dally's body warmth cooed to you like heaven. You ignored his sly and rude response about a lady's behind and allowed him to grip your face so you'd look up to him. He just stared at you before air-kissing at you and laughing. "You Soc girls sure do get wet easily, nothing a good towel can't fix though, eh?" he started cackling like a Hyena of some sort and twirled you around as he lifted your towel. You squealed and fixed it, glaring at him.
"Pig!" you announced, but in your head the two of you were doing more than twirling around and teasing each other.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Darry come walking down the hall with a fire in his eyes. You were disappointed, but at the same time relieved to know he was watching out for you. Your heart was a mess between your own good and Dallas, and so far Dallas was winning. "Dallas Winston, leave her alone before you get yourself kicked out!" he said, and Dally put up his hands defensively.
You watched from afar to two arguing and Darry slamming him up against the wall. For once in your life you felt bad. Bad in a way that mae your adrenaline pulse rapidly, the way that made your heart thump in a way of crazy feelings.

Dallas Winston the Greaser, the player, the asshole, made you feel like a real girl. And that was something you'd do anything for. Even Dallas himself.