the outsiders x reader preferences

you want to help him ::

🌟 You Want To Help Him, But He Won't Let You

Slang: what is your bag (what is your problem/do you have a problem), catch (a person/thing worth getting), gob (spit)

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Johnny Cade:

"Johnny, please. We-We can figure this out. Please, don't go." You cried onto his shoulder, grabbing his jacket like your life depended on it. Your head was spinning with wild thoughts of what was going to happen to Johnny - what could happen to him.

"Oh, Pony. You, too." You brought him into your embrace for a lingering hug. You could barely bring yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by emotion.

"I love you," Johnny sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen. He was drowning 'em." Overcome with grief, he brought you closer, giving shaky kisses to your hair.

"I know, I know," you repeated, as if trying to convince yourself. There weren't words to describe the ache in your chest. You knew that at any moment he'd have to leave your arms and that you may never see him again. Just as that dreadful thought crossed your mind, you heard Dallas speak.

"C'mon, kid, it's time to go." He grabbed Johnny by the elbow, giving you a sympathetic look.

"Please!" You cried out. "Johnny, I'll come with you. Let me help. You didn't mean it!" You brought your hand to your face, wiping your flowing tears with the back of your hand.

You scrambled for any words that would make him stay; words to just convince him to be with you in his time of need. Except, much to your dread, it was no use. His mind was made up, as terrible as the decision was.

With one last fleeting look, you could see the pain of the evening in Johnny's eye, the hurt he felt for leaving you, and his fear for the future. You collapsed into a broken pile on the ground, knowing there was nothing you could do for him in that moment. You felt helpless and vulnerable.

"I'll see you soon," he cried over his shoulder, looking white as a sheet, before he took off into the night.

Darrel Curtis:

"Oh, Dar," you cooed, finding him with his hands in his hair and an anxious look etched into his face. On the table in front of him sat a spread of miscellaneous papers, which you recognized as bills. Glory, did it look like there were a lot of 'em, too.

He must have noticed your equally worried expression as you scanned over them, "it looks worse than it is. It's the electric I'm worried about. We're gonna be short, I just know it."

He grimaced, wrapping you in a side hug from his seated position and resting his head on your side. You wondered, "could you call the company? Just explain that you'll get it to them as quick as you can?"

"I'm gonna have to," he grumbled, "but they've heard that one before. I don't know how much good grace they've got left for me there."

You could hear the stress in his tone. If you knew one thing about Darry, it was that he was beating himself up. If there was anything he felt shame about, it was when he felt he couldn't take care of his brothers. Whether it was a 10 cent difference or 5 dollars, he'd be kicking himself for not just working that extra mile.

"I'll cover it, Dar." You spoke after giving it a moments thought.

"Gosh, I couldn't ask that of you, Y/N. You don't even live here." He threw his hands up in nonacceptance.

"I might as well. Please, Darry, I want to help. I've been picking up extra shifts anyway. It ain't gonna hurt me, promise." He kept shaking his head as you continued, "C'mon Dar, let me take care of you for once." Your hand laced with his as he gave you an uneasy look.