Buckmerrill Stories

okay so I've been in the fandom for three years now and I've read a lot of shitty fanfics, so I thought this would be a fun thing to do :) here you have it, all my pet peeves and clichés that you see in typical outsiders fanfictions...

This is an arrangement of little stories I wrote based on the novel by S.E. Hinton and the movie by the same name. Most of them won't actually follow the plot of either. I hope if anyone reads these, they'll like them.

/-/-/-/-/-/ {Something Combining Strength With Sweetness} Dallas Winston Fan-fiction Just read I don't like explaining Disclaimer: •This was made for fun so please don't judge• /-/-/ !Enjoy!

A Dallas Winston Fanfiction

You come to live with your cousin, Buck Merrill. What in the world does this trip have in store for you? You are a new face In Tulsa, is that bad news? Which greaser will you fall for and how will you meet all of them?

"Jesus Christ, Jules." Darry stands up as he takes notice of the glass sticking out of her cheek, the blood having leaked onto her white shirt as well. "Your folks again?" Sodapop Curtis questions as he gives her a sympathetic look. Jules simply nods and lets out a sigh. "Come on, I'll patch ya up." Darry sighs as he moves toward the bathroom, locating the first aid kit. Jules follows the tall man, hopping up on the bathroom sink. "Did Johnny come by?" Jules questions as Darry shifts through the first aid kit. "No, why? He get hit too?" Darry pulls out the tweezers the pull out the glass. "Thanks." Jules nods, and Darry smiles at her before placing his hands on her hips and lifting her off the sink. "You may want to change, though." Darry's hands linger on her hips for a few seconds longer as he looks over the blood on her shirt and the oil on her jeans. Jules groans and hangs her head, resting it on his chest. Darry's chest rumbles with laughter, the Cade girl looking small beneath him. "Come on, I've got a shirt you can borrow." Darry offers, and Jules picks her head up again, giving the eldest Curtis a nod. Darrel Curtis X OC

ᴀʀᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀ ᴍᴇʀʀɪʟʟ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʀɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ; ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇʜᴏʟᴅ, ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ. ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴄᴋ ᴍᴇʀʀɪʟʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀɢᴏ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʏᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ-ʜᴀᴅ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛᴜʟꜱᴀ, ᴏᴋʟᴀʜᴏᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀꜱᴇꜱ-ʜɪꜱ ʀᴏᴅᴇᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴏʟᴇʀ. ᴀʀᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀ, ᴡʜᴏ ɢᴇɴᴜɪɴᴇʟʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.