- DALLAS WINSTON.
❝ GIVE 'EM A RUN FOR THEIR
MONEY, SWEETHEART. ❞
[ THE OUTSIDERS ]
[ GRAPHIC CONTENT ]
[RIGHTS:]
- THE ONLY CHARACTERS I OWN WILL BE INTRODUCED, I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS CREATED BY SE HINTON.
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MARTY R.—
i threw on what i normally wore to race; dark jeans and a tighter shirt. dallas, of course, walked in as i went to grab as my leather jacket.
"you gotta wear something else." he informed me, plopping onto my bed.
"what's wrong with this?" i questioned.
"sweetheart," dallas got back up, walking towards me, "these are the big leagues, you gotta distract your opponent a little. if you beat the big boys in a tight little skirt how do you think their egos are gonna feel?" his hand traveled to rest on my waist.
"you mean, when i win." i smirked, my hand lingering on top of his before i pulled in off.
"move over, i'm picking out what you're wearing." dal moved passed me to the small dresser, i didn't really have that big of a variety of clothes.
"damn, i should've found your underwear drawer sooner," he commented, a pair of black lacy panties hanging off of his index finger, "you're wearing these." with that, the lace was thrown at me.
"they aren't gonna see my underwear, why does it matter?" i complain.
"my personal pleasure." the greaser smirked at me, tossing the only strapless bra i owned at me.
"you're a pig."
"a pig would ask you to change into that in front of him. a gentleman like me man, i'll just wait to take your clothes off to see it." the smirk grew on his pale face.
i laughed, dallas winston truly is something else. he continued to toss clothing items at me till the ensemble was complete. each piece was pretty revealing. honestly, i didn't want to look like a greasy broad you'd pick up at a loveless motel.
he exited the room and i got dressed, fancy undergarments and all. a red cropped, off the shoulder top with a tight high waisted black shirt. how the hell did he think i'd be able to drive in this?
"can i come in now?" dallas asked, i yelled a quick yes as i searched for more comfortable pants.
"holy hell." i heard him mumble.
i turned around to see dallas with his jaw slack, eyes almost bulging. a smirk creeped onto my lips as my arms crossed.
"how am i supposed to drive in this dal?"
"maybe we should just stay here and you won't have to wear it. we could just fu–"
"not a chance, i'm racing." i cut his crude sentence short.
i picked out a pair of heels that'd go well with the look. my stance felt a little taller, more powerful. this just wasn't racing attire.
"i think i'm gonna wear what i usually do." i shrug.
"what? why?" dallas asked loudly.
before i could explain dallas had began to walk towards me, a hand falling to my waist once more.
"you look beautiful, like really beautiful. any guy would gladly lose to you." his voice was low, soft but coarse at the same time. his free hand had traveled to jaw, dallas' index finger grazed against my skin to force me to look into his eyes.
"you really think usin' one of your lines is gonna drop my panties?" i replied sarcastically, he hadn't got under my skin quite yet.
"i don't call greasy broads beautiful, martini." his lips fell to my neck, kissing lightly.
my head fell back slightly, subconsciously closing my eyes and gripping onto his sides. i didn't mind the attention, i don't think anyone would be upset with a cute boy kissing up on you.
"greasy girls may be hot, but marty you're fucking beautiful," his breath fanned over my skin, "but you also don't want me."
my eyes opened as he let go of me, walking out of my room. i was slightly stunned, maybe even embarrassed. he'd dug under my skin just a little bit more.
in an attempt to brush it off, i went to the bathroom to do my makeup and hair. red lips, small cat eye liner, and light blush. my hair fell pretty much straight. another knock rung through the house from the front door. by the time i'd gotten downstairs, dallas has already answered it.
"why are you fucking here, winston?" a familiar voice spat out.
"hey, calm down tim. am i not allowed to have friends, man?" dallas grinned mischievously.
"not ones the are actually good people like marty." tim pushed past dallas, quickly stopping to look at his surroundings.
i knew he hadn't even glanced at this house since my brothers and me left. the pain was very evident, but tim pushed it aside.
"marty, why are you hangin' around winston?"
"last i checked tim, it's my life. i'm a big girl, i can handle myself." i rolled my eyes.
"you're barely even legal." tim scoffed.
"i've been on my own since i was thirteen. for fuck's sake, tim. i work my ass off for me, no one else will. i don't expect anyone too! back the fuck off of shit you know nothing about!" i wasn't going to have the conversation, turning to go to the kitchen.
i quickly felt my body slam against the wall, tim seething as his me bruised my forearms.
"what the fuck tim?" i screamed, tryin to get out his arms. dallas stood frozen, i didn't blame him. i was terrified too.
"not one phone call, not a single one! you fucking left, you not me. we waited and waited for you to call, you never did. we could've helped you, but you left. damnit, marcine you don't fucking understand! it fucking broke my heart!" his hands gripped my arms tighter, i grimaced at the pain. tim left, shoving my back into the wall again before doing so.
i fell to the floor, everything felt like it was on fire. dizzy was an understatement. nothing around me was stable, my vision blurred. nothing was okay.
nothing was ever okay.
— oof. timmy boy. i know i said smut would be in this chapter but i'm trying span the time with johnny and pony hiding out because i'm most likely going to end this book like the outsiders actually does so smut is still coming up just maybe 1-2 chapters before
