𐔌 . ⋮ Miracles .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MY MASTERLIST !!

𖦹= oc work ⟡ = fluff ☾ = angst

•───⁺──⋅☾ . ✦ . ☽ ⋅──⁺───•

THE OUTSIDERS:

Darrel Curtis

tbd….

Ponyboy Curtis

tbd….

Dallas Winston

tbd….

Johnny Cade

A Heart Full Of Tears ☾

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OC MASTERLIST:

Francis Lorraine Vendelini

oc bio 𖦹

cars and stars 𖦹⟡

the gang’s opinions on francis 𖦹⟡

modern Franny + Gang hcs!𖦹⟡

Lynetta Rose Cade-Dubois

oc bio 𖦹

miracles 𖦹⟡☾

guess 𖦹⟡

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a/n: laughs because I feel no desire to write for anyone or anything else…. heh…….😓

tbh I kinda rlly wanna write smth for hiccup from httyd….😓

Francis Lorraine Vendelini

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Nickname/s: Francie, Franny, Rainy

Age: Sixteen

Birthday: February 28th

Height: 5’4

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual, no pref

Class: Greaser

Faceclaim: nobody so far, dm if u have ideas!

Relationship status: single, but crushing on a certain someone… ;)

Personality: extremely temperamental and sassy, the kind of girl who doesn’t take bullshit from anybody — always ripping on people — cough cough, Steve — and causing unnecessary trouble. Confident, cocky, and careless on the surface, similar to Dallas. But when all those layers are stripped off, when it’s her in her most vulnerable state, she’s nothing but a shy, scared little kid who was forced to take on a parental role too early. Doesn’t stop her from being reckless and loud, though. Never did, never will.

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Franny’s a mystery, if I’m bein’ honest. Mean and loud and obnoxious one moment, quiet and contemplative the next. Can’t blame her. Life in Tulsa’s shit — most of the time, at least. It’s easy to disassociate yourself when things get to be too much.

She’s real pretty, considering she’s both grease and a girl. With a face that looks like it’s straight out of a Victorian painting and hair that could combat Ronnie Spector herself, she’s got it all. Most girls like her wear makeup that makes ‘em look like raccoons and act all mean. But Franny? She can’t afford that stuff, not with her siblings under wing. That’s why she has Two-Bit steal stuff for her. Her face is covered in freckles and little beauty marks, all across her nose and cheeks and arms that reminds me of splattered paint. Johnny says her grandmother called ‘em “angel kisses,” so she does too. She also always smells like coffee and leather for no explainable reason, considering the amount of cigarettes she smokes.

She never fails to out dress most of us. Stolen and handmade band shirts, roughed up jeans, leather jackets, denim jackets with patches all over ‘em, she’s got it all. The jewelry she wears, too, is pretty sick. All those silver rings and necklaces remind me of Dally… come to think of it, she probably stole some from him. I wouldn’t be surprised, she’s kind of a klepto.

Johnny is definitely her favorite, we all know it. They’re always together, laughing and smiling and causing trouble. Two-Bit tags along often, too, as well as Dally, which results in stealing and more trouble. However, the one moral she stands by to death is that she’ll never do something that would send her to prison. She can’t afford to, not withe her siblings in her custody. If she’s not around, they’ll have to fend for themselves. They’re her whole world.

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“Load up on guns,

and bring your friends,

it's fun to lose and to pretend.

She's over-bored and self assured,

oh no, I know a dirty word.”

———————————————————————

“Franny doesn’t take shit from anybody! She’s lived more lives than most, which in itself means more than one thing. Her whole being is messed up from what she’s been through, not unlike the other guys. She talks mean and fights dirty, but there’s still something… off about her. Like when nobody’s lookin’, she’ll get all quiet and have this weird look in her eye. And she probably doesn’t realize we see her flinchin.”

— Ponyboy Curtis, 1964

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“Oh, Franny? The girl’s a fuckin’ riot! She ain’t afraid to yell, steal, be a nuisance! Nice as hell, man, a breath of fresh air. At first, I thought she was some stupid broad, but now? I’m tellin’ ya, man, she’s got somethin’ to her. She ain’t fake or bitchy or rude like all the other broads I’ve met in my time. A real nice chick, man. Got a nice ass, too.”

— Dallas “Dally” Winston, 1964

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“What’s Rainy like? Oh, man, I mean… she’s somethin’ else. She acts all tough and mean and wild with Dally and Two, and I know she has fun, but they don’t truly know her. They don’t see the way she cares about her baby brother and sister. They’ll never see it, and I think she’s okay with that. She always talks about gettin’ out of here, goin’ to college and makin’ a name for herself other than “low-life greaser.” They don’t know how she grew up, how she lives now. But she’s okay with it.”

— Johnny Cade, 1964

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“ONE DAY…”

I AM GONNA GROW WINGS.”

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BACKGROUND:

Francis, or “Franny” as her closest friends call her, grew up in Jersey. She’d lived with her mom and dad and younger siblings, but unfortunately, she didn’t have it easy. Abuse and neglect took place, leaving nasty scars that end up lasting her whole life. But when her painters finally got divorced, her mother didn’t hesitate to pack up and run off to Tulsa with her and her younger siblings. Despite how it should have been a fresh start, it was the opposite. Her mother’s drinking and lack of an emotional and physical presence made things more than difficult. For the first few months, it was hell — until Buck Merril found Franny on the street and took her in. He then gave her a job posing as a man at the local drag racing track under the alias of “Frank Turner.”

This is where Johnny Cade, the quiet and calculating greaser everyone seems to know, comes into play. Him, being a fan of drag racing, had idolized Francis, believing her to be a man — as everyone else had. One fateful night, he decided to sneak to the back of the track. He had been anticipating a nice interaction with his idol, only to find a girl his age leaning on a car, laughing at Buck’s jokes and smoking a cigarette. In a moment of disbelief, he couldn’t help gasping, drawing her and Buck’s attention to him. For a moment, she fears for her whole life, thinking he’d tell everyone she’s a woman and ruining her main source of income. That is, until Johnny blurts out in a shaky voice “I won’t tell! Honest!” From then on, they were best friends.

Eventually, she got to meet the gang — Darry, Ponyboy, Soda, Dallas, Two-Bit and Steve. She was adopted into their group easily, in spite of her being female. Dally, especially, took a (mainly perverted) liking to her. She, Johnny and Dallas became a little trio, with Two-Bit occasionally tagging along. However, she and Johnny were always the closest, to the point where his first thought after being kicked out was to go to Francis. She became his safe haven, and she was happy to provide him with such comfort. At the Curtis house, with Darry, Soda and Pony, she was always happy to help with cooking or cleaning. Sure, she has her own siblings, but a couple more couldn’t hurt, right?

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moodboard !

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EXTRAS:

Likes: Snoopy/the peanuts Frank Sinatra, The Ronettes (don’t tell anyone), collecting vinyls, LOVESS pepsi, silver jewelry, cigarettes (she has no preference, she’ll take what she can get), diners, making fun of Steve, scented candles

Dislikes: Coke, Batman, uptight Socs, Snoopy haters, people who whine and complain 24/7, Bob Sheldon, music haters, people with no personality, Bob Sheldon, people who make fun of Johnny, Bob Sheldon, musk scented candles, milk, did I mention Bob Sheldon?

Interests: The peanuts, Cinema — specifically Frank Sinatra — music, the punk movement, the lore of Spider-Man, poetry (Pony put her on Robert Frost), books of all kind, George Orwell, women’s suffrage n shit.

Body Type: physically, she’s very strong, but due to being broke, she’s on the skinnier side. If she had three full meals a day, she’d have a bit more curves, similar to the Venus De Milos.

Friends: Johnny Cade, Two-Bit Matthews, Dallas Winston, Buck Merril.

Opinions on Socs: while she doesn’t purposefully pick fights with them, she also isn’t too kind. It mainly comes from a sense of jealousy — they get to have it all, while she and her friends are stuck with nothing. Though, if they’re nice to her, she’ll be nice right back. Bob Sheldon though? If he were to ever show his face to her, it’s on sight.

Mental Health: despite how she acts, all mean and rough, she’s struggling. Constantly keeping her thoughts and troubles to herself and never accepting help has lead to her having a lot of issues. She always puts out her cigarettes on her wrists or thighs, thinking nobody notices. On top of that, she and her siblings have undiagnosed ADHD and certain symptoms of Borderline.

Random: she knows ALL of the peanuts lore, in talking every little detail. Who’s best friends, who’s crushing on who, all of Snoopy’s siblings. Schroeder and Lucy are her favs (aside from snoopy). She is a MASSIVE coke hater, and she will til the day she dies. She also has an unhealthy love for Spider-Man and his lore. She speaks Italian to her siblings so they know it, but otherwise doesn’t, so when she does speak it in front of the gang, it’s always a spectacle.

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I’m new to this shit so criticism is okay! yall can dm me for writing tips, face claim ideas, if ur oc’s would be friends w mine, all that junk :))

nvm I just went w movie im too impatient and matt dillon is too fine 😣

okay so for the part 2 of my last fic, should I make Dallas book accurate or movie accurate? I can’t decide 😖

okay so for the part 2 of my last fic, should I make Dallas book accurate or movie accurate? I can’t decide 😖

𐔌 . ⋮ GUESS .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

“Is it showing off my brand new lower back tattoo?”

Synopsis…! Lynn gets herself a new tattoo, but is scared of how the gang will react — but it’s the way Dally reacts that catches her off guard.

─────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰ ─────

She’d meant to tell them — honest — she just forgot.

A week prior, Lynn went out and decided to treat herself, inevitably having the bright idea to get a tattoo on her lower back. She’d wanted one for years anyway, and now that she’s eighteen, she can do whatever the hell she wants.

Somehow, though, she managed to forget to tell the gang. Despite the fact they’re some of her best friends, it just didn't feel like something to speak about with them –Angela Shepard, however, is. She was the first and only person she’s told, and because she’s Angela, she loved the design.

“Oh my god, it’s so hot! I might get one too, now! We should match-!” She then blabbered on for an hour about nonsense.

For a while after she got it, she’d simply forgotten to tell them. The design was often covered by pants, anyways. One day, though, her silly little secret gets revealed in a rather odd manner…

───── ─────

It was blazing hot out, normal for a May morning in Tulsa, and Lynn decided to wear a pair of low rise jeans and a cropped tank top, paired with her leather jacket. It’s nearly 80 degrees out, she’s not going to be caught dead in anything else.

“Hey, ya’ll! She calls out, as she and Johnny enter the Curtis house, her typical grin on her face.

A mantra of “hey”s and “hello”s echo throughout the house, all voices familiar and comforting.

“Darry, is the A.C. still broke?” She asks, sitting down on the couch.

“‘Course it is, Lynn. I ain’t a plumber, I’m a roofer.” His response is what she expected, so with a small huff, she takes off her jacket, tossing it away.

Her lower back is inevitably exposed, and guess who’s the first to see the tattoo? Dallas.

He rubs a hand over his face at the sight, mumbling curses under his breath. For several seconds, he does nothing but sit there, staring. His gaze locked on her back with pupils blown wide.

He’s the only one to notice, apparently, based on the fact nobody else has said a word — because we all know they would.

But the moment she’s bending over to grab a soda off the coffee table? He’s a goner.

“Fuck, man…” He murmurs softly, glancing away and adjusting his jeans ever so subtly. His hands find her hips the moment she’s near, tugging her between his legs without a second thought.

“Doll… what the hell is this?” He asks, smoothing a hand over the tattoo, fingers tracing the ridges.

“Oh, uhm, just a tattoo?” Lynn replies, feigning nonchalance with every bone in her body.

At the sound of her words, unfortunately, everyone in the room turns to her. Steve and Two-Bit quit wrestling, Soda stops being their referee, Pony looks up from his book and Johnny tears his gaze away from looking over his shoulder.

Lynn stares at them, her expression blank, as if such a predicament is normal.

“IS THAT A TATTOO??” A shocked Pony gasps, breaking the silence that had been hanging in the air like a taught string. That makes everyone run over, their voices overlapping as they all ask frantically about the new addition to her body.

“When did you get it?”

“Did it hurt?”

“Why the hell did you want it?”

“Not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot….”

At that comment from Two-Bit, Dally stomps on his foot, the hand around Lynn’s waist tightening as the other man yelps.

The whole situation is… interesting, to say the least. She can’t help basking in the attention, showing the thing off with a wide grin.

“Yeah, it didn't hurt much. Which was kinda surprising, since the skin there’s supposed to be sensitive or somethin’. I wanna get more soon, but they’re damn expensive.”

All the while, Dally is watching from the couch, icy eyes locked onto her back.

Eventually, the commotion dies down, and Lynn takes her spot beside Dally, gaze stuck on the TV before her playing Mickey Mouse. But Dallas – of course – is still thinking of that goddamn tattoo. The way it looked on her skin, the design she’d chosen, the image of her laying on the table.

He can't quit thinking about it, and it’s driving him nuts. Why can’t his mind just let it go?

───── ─────

From that point on, whenever he gets the chance, he lets his hands brush her lower back. Lynn doesn’t notice – at least, not until Johnny points it out.

─────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰ ─────

a/n: kinda hate this one ngl, but it’s whatever :P

it is currently 1 am and I can’t sleep but I also can’t stay awake… someone kill me? perchance?

thank god I got my cutie patootie 🔥🔥🔥

hii!! Can I request never let me go, by lana del rey? (Apologies cuz this is gonna be a bit long….also pls no Steve😓)

my hair is short, a mix between curly and wavy and dark brown. I have freckles and beauty marks all over, my eyes are green, im defo short and my skin is somewhat tan. My style is a good mix between “modern” grunge and “old/classic” grunge. Think band t-shirts, jeans, converse, silver jewelry, bracelets, those kinda clothes. I’m an introverted extrovert, I’m quiet unless I’m with my friends. I like my alone time but I also adore hanging out with my friends! I like getting into a little trouble (ex, nearly getting kicked out of McDonald’s) but not too much cuz I’m a coward…. I also really love reading and music :))

Anyways I LOVEEE ur writing and I’m so happy for you reaching 100 followers!!

HAHHAHA no steve is toooo real . i think you would b cute with johnny! :3

․ ⁺ ⊹ 𐔌 MY OH MY…

WHAT A GIRL ⁀₊➷ ⋄

─────﹒★﹒ ─────

she/he/they // mac demarco enthusiast // outsiders fan !

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MASTERLIST !!

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WRITING RULES

Note: So far, I’ve only written OC things — which I’ll continue to do — but I’m also thinking about doing x reader things.

I WILL write:

Kissing, hugging, normal shit

Certain mental health things; if I’m not too familiar, I’ll do the best research I can

Mild SH, such as hints at it or someone having scars, but I won’t describe it in detail

Death, but not smth rlly graphic 😣

Mentions of or implied SA

What I WONT write:

Smut

Graphic SA

Graphic SH

Anything where someone — reader, a character, an oc — r*pes someone else (idk if tumblr allows that word so I apologize for the censoring 😓)

Pedophilia, zoophilia, anything of that nature 🤢

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INFO ABOUT ME !!

my nickname is Francis (I did name an oc after me, I js love the name 😓💔)

I’m 14-going-on-15 🫢

I’m bisexual therefore I have every right to project it onto my oc’s 😝

My fav artists/bands are Mac Demarco, Nirvana, Alex G, Current Joys, Cheap Perfume, The Smiths, Big Thief and Billie Eilish

I collect soda tabs for sillies (I have 250+)

I’ve seen the movie Flipped over forty times….. (and counting)

I’m a silver jewelry girl

I LOVEEEE reading; my fav books are The Hunger Games, The Outsiders obv, Percy Jackson, The Song Of Achilles, Greek myth retellings, the Powerless trilogy, dystopia books, etc!

I collect vinyls

I’m madly in love w Minecraft….

My fav shows are Brooklyn 99, Scott Pilgrim (the series), Demon Slayer, Pokémon, Gravity Falls, Ponyo, My Neighbor Totoro, and plenty more

I also REALLY love Stardew Valley (Harvey 4 life)

Vanilla is MY scent

─────﹒★﹒ ─────

a/n: I’m new to this writing stuff, so pls don’t expect insanely good shit 🙏 I’ll take requests, but it’s finals season so I may or may not get to it 😞 also if my blog looks goofy its cuz i use phone (at least for the posting part) and it's a lot diff than computer or laptop....

“I can’t be what you need,

I am stuck in a dream.”

Synopsis…! You and Johnny are best friends. You’ve been there for each other through thick and thin. But what happens when you have an undeniable love for him, and he just doesn’t seem to notice?

a/n…! Made this based off an ask I did but couldn’t get out of my head🙏 can’t tell if I like it tho…. Also begging for literally anyone who sees this to req smth im in desperate need of writing inspo

w/c…! 1800+

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

You need to look perfect.

That’s what you tell yourself over and over, the sentence repeating like a broken record.

Buck’s hosting a party tonight. Johnny will be there; the same Johnny you’ve been trying to get the attention of for months now. And yet, each time you cast him an extra glance, make a flirty comment, dress up extra pretty, he doesn’t notice. Doesn’t even seem to look.

It breaks your heart.

Which is exactly why tonight you’re going to this party. Tonight is the night, the one where he has to notice you. You’ll march up to him, bat your eyelashes and be forward.

“Hey, Johnnycakes, wanna go out to the drive-in sometime?” You’ll state. He’ll have to say yes.

But to make that work, you’ll have to look extra pretty. Not just normal pretty, special pretty. Sure, it feels silly trying so hard for a boy, but you can’t help it. This needs to go right.

However, you currently find yourself in a bit of a dilemma.

You’ve spent probably the past two hours trying to find an outfit.

“Ugh! I have nothing to wear!” You wail, hands carding through already messy hair.

“Just wear what makes you feel confident! That’s what will really make you ‘special’ pretty!” Your friend Lindsey replies, quoting the statement you’d made earlier.

“How do you know that’ll work? What if he sees me and thinks, “wow, she’s really wearing that?” I’ll ruin my chances!”

“I can almost guarantee Johnny won’t think that. Here, let me try to find something up to your standards.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. So, you sit at your vanity, sulking as she searches your closet.

After only ten minutes she’s coming back out with an outfit draped over her arm. She shoves it into your hands, grinning as she shoves you into your bathroom, saying that “it’s perfect!’

You sigh as you close the door. Is it really perfect? You know Lindsey is very big on fashion, but can you truly trust her? The only way to find out is to try the outfit on, and when you do, you decide you’ll never doubt her again.

First you pull on the lace tank top. It’s one with spaghetti straps that hugs your body just right – but you bought it so long ago it somehow still has the tag. Then comes the blouse, pale green and gingham, with a low enough neck to show off the lace of the shirt beneath. And last, on bottom, is a white pleated skirt that reaches your mid-thigh. You’ve worn it more times than you can count, but that’s what you love about it; it’s simple but effective.

You step out of your bathroom, feeling prettier than you have in a while. Lindsey can’t help grinning, clapping her hands together as you give her a bashful smile.

“It is perfect,”

“I know, right! Never doubt me again, girlfriend!” Her voice is giddy, as are her movements, as she sits you down at your vanity.

A handful of hours later, you’re walking up to Buck’s – hair styled, makeup done, outfit flawless. Lindsey and Cherry are at your sides, for emotional support, they’d said. Despite the confidence in your step, nerves eat away at your stomach. Your thoughts are filled with nothing but the worst-case scenarios of tonight.

The moment you step foot into the house, your senses are violated by your surroundings – the smell of smoke and beer, the loud yells and even louder music, the bright lights.

But your eyes don't take long to find him.

Black hair. Tan skin. Big brown eyes. Leaning against a wall with a red solo cup in his calloused hands, a grin spread across his lips.

And a girl standing before him.

Hand touching his arm. Laughing unbearably loud at a dumb joke. Eyes full of lust.

Your heart drops. Your ears ring. Your throat grows dry.

You’re moving before your brain even registers it, feet carrying you over to where Johnny’s standing. He doesn’t notice you. Not until you’ve started speaking.

“Are you kidding me?”

He immediately turns to you, an expression of bewilderment falling upon his features.

“What?” His tone is laced with confusion. He glances over at the blonde chick, watching as she approaches her next victim like Johnny never existed.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Johnny?” You repeat, taking a step closer to him – voice heavy with emotion as you continue your rambling.

“I got dressed up. I bought new mary janes. I spent hours on my hair.”

He’s too confused to respond, his mouth stupidly hanging open. As if he has a right to be shocked.

“I did all this for you, and I don't get so much as a spared glance. Not a ‘hi’ or a wave or even a glance. Nothing.”

Your eyes are brimming with salty tears, but you hold them back. He doesn't get to see you cry. Not now.

“I tried so goddamn hard, Johnny. I always did. But you just don’t see it, do you?” This is what makes him speak up, voice poisoned with uncalled for frustration.

“What do you mean I don’t notice? Of course I do!”

“No, you don't!" You immediately retort. “Not like how you’re supposed to. You don't see me and think, ‘I wish she were mine.’ You see me and all you think is that I’m your good friend.” Your heart sits heavy in your throat, your words choked out as you hold back tears.

Johnny just stands there like an idiot, his brows creased, his expression incredulous.

“But–”

“Don’t.” You don’t want him fighting for you. It’ll only make the aching in your chest worsen. He’s too late, anyway. He’s made his intentions clear.

You turn on your heel and walk away. Never even once do you look back. He doesn’t deserve your heart, not anymore.

You shove your way through the crowd, colliding with sweaty bodies over and over until you reach the door. You’ve practically collapsed the moment you’ve left, sitting down on the curb.

Salty tears stream down your cheeks. You were never a pretty crier, not like the actresses in movies. You sob, sniffle, hiccup; ruined makeup stains your face. Shaky hands come up to swipe at the tears, though not helping much.

It’s official. Your chances with him are smothered out like the flame of a burnt out candle.

Johnny stands there, frozen. Stuck in place like an idiotic looking statue. From across the room, Dallas watches. He saw the whole thing. You strutting in, your pretty outfit, your nervous smile. The argument. The tears. He knew how you tried, it was made clear from the moment you’d started hanging around Johnny. But he boy was a goddamn idiot.

“You’ve royally fucked up, man.” Dally suddenly says.

Johnny’s head snaps over to him, his shock still written all over his face. But he doesn’t say a word.

“She really likes you. No clue why you didn’t notice. Hell, I thought about takin’ her for myself-” Those last words make his heart feel like it’s being carved straight out of his chest.

“I fuckin’ get it! Jeez, don’t gotta make me feel like a bigger asshole..” Johnny barks, the pain in his chest getting worse with every moment you’re gone.

The only reason this makes him feel so shitty isn't because he hurt his best friend, but because he’d been in your position before. Trying so goddamn desperately to get her attention – not in a normal way, in a romantic way. He wanted you to see him, but he gave up long ago. And as it turns out, that’s when you started trying.

It’s just one big fucked up mess, really.

“You should go after her.” Dally suddenly says, nudging him. “Tell her how you feel. It’s rainin’, too. You could make it like one of those stupid ass romance movies she likes.”

Johnny perks up at this, realizing he’s been standing here like a goddamn idiot for the past five minutes while you’ve probably been sobbing.

Without thinking, he starts racing to the front door praying that she’s still out there.

The rain pelts down at his skin hard. But there you are, sitting on the curb, your pretty face in your hands.

When you hear footsteps, you know it’s him. Before he speaks, before he even makes himself known. You’d always recognize him, down to the very last beat of his heart.

“I get it, Johnny. You feel bad for making me cry but you don’t like me like that. You don’t have to like me or apologize.”

You look over your shoulder at him, expecting him to be nodding, but all you see is his confused face.

“What—?! I mean- you’re.. how did you even make that conclusion?”

The two of you stare at each other. For several seconds, all you can do is stare at him.

“You never even noticed me, Johnny. You never–“

“Would you quit saying that I didn’t notice?!”

His snappy tone catches you off guard. Catches himself off guard. But nevertheless, he goes on.

“Of course I noticed! I couldn’t not notice! You looked like the goddamn sun in all those skirts and dresses, and you expect me not to notice you?!”

You stare up at him, slowly rising on shaky legs to face him fully. He noticed? Did he really notice and she just couldn’t see?

“Then why didn’t you say anything? I dropped the most obvious hints and you didn’t even reciprocate!” You allege, your own tone just as accusatory as his own.

“Because I thought you were being nice! I didn’t flirt back because I couldn’t fathom the idea of someone as angelic as you liking me!”

You’re right in front of him now. Faces close, arguing like two scared mutts. Voices raised, rain pelting your skin, mixing with the stray tears on your cheeks.

“So you just gave up? You decided I wasn’t worth fighting for and stopped trying—!”

Calloused hands grasp your cheeks as soft lips cover your own.

Your heart stops.

Your breath catches.

But you don’t pull away.

Not for a single second.

Not until you both can’t take it anymore and need to breathe. Even then, you’re hesitant, chasing his lips until the last second.

You finally look up at him, and you’re met with black lashes framing eyes as dark as the night sky. Your heart nearly stops.

“Johnny, I–” You attempt to stammer out, but he interrupts you once again.

“Don’t.” You pause. His eyes lock onto yours, hands refusing to move from your cheeks. Calloused thumbs caress your cheekbones, the touch gentle despite the storm behind his eyes.

“Please just let me call you mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Is he being serious, you ask yourself, is this really happening?

But before you can fully formulate a response in your mind, you’re nodding your head. And then he’s leaning in again. Your lips collide, the rain pelting your skin only fueling the need behind your kisses.

From the window in Buck’s living room, Dallas cheers to himself. Finally, the stupid kid has his entire world all to himself.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───