Johnny x Reader: First Fight

Requested by two anons

Summary: Johnny and reader have their first fight, while in front of the rest of the gang.

Johnny was irritated, you could tell from the moment you met up with him as he walked towards your house with you this morning. Normally he would great you with a smile of some sort but today he only mumbled a soft “hello” and kept his head down. While you talked it seemed like he wasn’t listening and it was obvious something was off.

After sitting around trying fruitlessly to make small talk you gave up. With a heavy sigh you offered up the idea of going over to the Curtis house, in hopes that something interesting would be going on over there. Thankfully Johnny agreed and you two began the rather short walk over to the small house.

When you arrived at the house it was, indeed, bustling with five out of six of the other guy only one missing because Darry had to work as usual. Each member was doing their own little side activities while still somehow interacting with the group as a whole. It always interested you to see the guys just relaxing and enjoying themselves. Johnny almost immediately went off to sit next to Dallas.

About and hour passed and Johnny kept ignoring you and pushing you away. You eventually corned him in the kitchen and furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“What’s your problem?!” You demanded rather harshly as Soda wandered into the room as well and opened the fridge.

Johnny sighed and finally looked up at you, “I’m sick of you always treating me like I’m sum piece of glass or somethin’…I can take of myself, I don’t need you always hangin’ off of me.”

Your face turned into a scowl as you looked at your boyfriend in disbelief, “Really? That’s why you’ve been in a mood all day?”

“I don’t like you treating me like a baby!” Johnny’s voice raised slightly as he pushed past you and went back into the living room area.

“I don’t!”

“You do! You always are askin’ me how I’m doing and even when I tell you, you don’t believe my answer!”

You were infuriated, Johnny told you he was thankful for your caring nature and now here he was, telling you he hated it.

“Johnny what has gotten into you?!” Everyone was now watching the two of you with full attention, but it didn’t matter to you.

“You have, I can’t stand ya anymore, (Y/N)”

It was so unreal and out of character for Johnny that all you could do was shake your head and head out of the door. When the door closed, Johnny sighed with a smile and sat on the couch.

“Johnny, what the fuck was that?” Dallas was the first one to speak up and even he was rather taken aback.

Johnny shrugged and turned back into his meeker form and couldn’t seem to come up with an answer, “I don’t really know.”

“Well get your ass up and apologize,” Dally grumbled, not wanting Johnny to turn into the cold boyfriend he knew he was himself.

Johnny nodded and slowly got up to follow you and catch up with you to apologize.

//I’m sorry this sucks but it took so long to write, granted I was watching Christmas movies and looking at engagement rings(for literally no reason)//


I’m not sure how many of my followers are still fans of The Outsiders (or of how many fans are left at all), but I’ll go ahead and share this, anyway!
My mother has an internet friend who was born and raised in Tulsa, Oklahoma. We went to stay with her for a little while, and yesterday she began talking about how she was a resident enrolled in high school when the cast and crew of The Outsiders came to film in her town.
They used several locations in her home town for filming the movie, one of which was a little home located on the corner of a sleepy neighborhood. To residents, tourists, and fans alike, this house is referred to as “The Outsiders’ House.”
She was more than excited to take my family on a small car ride to go visit the treasure. On the way, she told us about how they had filmed at a drive thru which had burned down (later, there was money raised to build it again), how the water fountain in the park had been removed, how their school was used in the film, how the DX was no longer a DX, and how she observed the filming from afar. She was even invited to the reunion of The Outsiders, alongside all of the residents from the filming period.
Within her stories, she detailed how a band member from the hip-hop group House of Pain has purchase the home, and now has full intent in completely restoring it–outsides, insides, and all–so that it can be formed into a museum where it stands for all to come and see.

In short, enjoy the photos I snapped of The Outsiders’ house (with the last three pictures being bonus snaps of interior work, a poster hung up in the window of the home, and the park used in the movie).


Dating Sodapop Curtis would include…

- Hanging out with Steve and Soda at the DX

- Sitting on the counter while Soda works the register

- Watching Soda fix cars

- Having to deal with Steve and Soda constantly talking about cars

“But Steve did you see it? That thing was a beauty-”

“No that thing was a piece of junk. Did you miss the mustang we saw last week? That was a beauty.”

“You’re crazy. You know-”
“Would you both please take a break for three minutes and not talk about cars? I mean seriously, carry on some other, normal conversation, please.”



*sigh* “Oh whatever. You two are hopeless.”

- Hanging out at the Curtis’s house

- Soda taking you on little dates randomly

- Making Soda blush because it’s so easy

“You are so cute.”

“No I am not. I’m tuff-”

“You’re like a little puppy. You wanna be all big and bad but you just look so adorable! See, you’re blushing again! Aww you just look so cute!”

- Convincing Darry, Ponyboy and the gang that you aren’t like Sandy

- Dealing with Two-Bit’s jokes

“Hey, can you get me a soda while you’re in there?”

“God y/n, you really love soda don’t you.”

“I mean, yeah it’s alright.”

“How often do you drink soda?”

“Well, um, I mean I don’t really-”

“Shut up Two-Bit!”

“I’m just making conversation!”

“No you are trying to be vulgar so shut it!”

- Reassuring Soda that you don’t care if he’s a dropout

- Getting real nervous when the draft starts and Soda is eligible

- Saving up for years with Soda so that you two can afford a place together

- Coming home to Soda

- Seeing his bright smile every morning

“You have such a pretty smile.”

“You’ve got a pretty face.”

“You’ve got the brightest smile I have ever seen.”

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on.”

“Oh please.”

“The best view i could imagine waking up to.”

- Trying to win over Ponyboy, who is convinced no girl is good enough for Soda

- Getting angry when other girls flirt with Soda

- Him calling you his baby

- Soda singing to you when you’re sick because you made him one time and discovered he has a real pretty voice

- Sodapop loving to go down on you, just all the time. He doesn’t even ask you to return the favor

“What are you doing?”

“Good morning baby.”

“What are you- ohh, oh God Soda,”

“Just relax baby, let me get my breakfast.”

- Soda admitting through truth or dare that his favorite place in the world is in between your thighs

- Lots of morning sex because Sodapop never fails to wake up with morning wood

- Him being really demanding in bed, always insisting that you tell him exactly what you want him to do before he will start anything

“Come on Soda, please.”

“Nope, you gotta say it.”

“But you know what I need Soda, just, please, come on.”

“Not until you say it.”

- He is really passionate but he can also be very playful and lighthearted when it comes to sex

- He adores the way your legs feel around him, his waist and his neck

- Him absolutely loving blowjobs but never wanting to ask for fear of pressuring you

- You trying to get him to stop being so nice every once in awhile and really say what he wants

“Too nice?”

“Yes. I mean it’s great that you are so well mannered but, I just need for you to tell me what you want ya know. At least pretend like you want to be in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?  I want this y/n I do and you know that.”
“Then act like it. Just take something you want for a change and stop being such a pushover!”

“You want me to stop being a pushover? Take what I want?”


“I want you. I want you everyday for the rest of my life. I want to come home to you in my home. That is enough for me y/n. You are more than enough for what I want in my life.”

- Having little fights with Soda that always seem to end with long hugs with Soda whispering sweet nothings into your ear

- Fighting some of the girls who go too far

- Him never letting you alone with Dally

- Showering with Soda

- Patching Soda up after he gets in a fight with some socs who were trying to hit on you

- Trying to get Soda to stop from going to the rumbles

- Getting caught staring at Soda whenever he is changing

“What are you looking at huh?”

“Something very sexy.”

“What did you just say?”


“Did you just seriously say that? In front of everyone?”

“No. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

- Sometimes suggesting that Soda should go with pants for a while

- Soda asking you to start your life with him so that the two of you will never have to be separated.

I am so sorry.


Summer Home of Fotografer [sic] near Big Trees (circa 1888)  C.C. Curtis, photographer.

C.C. Curtis was well-known for his photographs documenting the logging of giant sequoias.  He and his family were part of the Kaweah Co-Operative Commonwealth (aka Kaweah Colony), a Utopian community in the Sierra Nevada.

My friend and I made a promise to one another that we will visit the Curtis house together and we won’t get go with anyone else. We made that promise and will fulfill it even if I live in the United States and she lives in Australia. We hope that we can meet the actors from the movie while we are there. We made a promise and we shall keep it.


You would have to fly in all the actors from all over America. I’m sure it’d be worth it though. You can fly in Tom Cruise from NYC and Rob from…California? Not sure where the rest live.

Preference – XOXO: He finds your love note/doodle (Request)

So apparently I have no idea how to write short preferences.


Darry’s tools were his lifeblood, the reason for his existence as far as he was concerned. If anyone touched those tools they’d be dead. That’s exactly why his tool belt was you favorite hiding spot for notes; you knew he’d always look there.

You had to walk past the Curtis house every morning to work and would occasionally duck into the trunk of the pickup, stuffing a carefully written letter into his leather work bag. Tucking it safely away, you’d patted the bag and would continue down with a bounce to your feet.

Darry finds the note as he’s unpacking at the work site, a half-smile immediately appearing on his lips. He opens the letter to find your feelings spilling off the page. With furrowed brows he carefully inhales each of your words, his chest swelling with warmth. A call from the boss to get started has him tucking the note in his shirt pocket to read again later.


Sleeping over was always fun with Dally. Not only were you able to release some frustration, but wearing his shirts after left his scent on your skin for a few hours. Waking early the next morning you took a moment to scribble a little note before you left for work. You sealed it with a lipstick kiss and quietly went on your way.

Dally wakes to the door closing, sitting up slightly to search for your absence. Still tired he shifts his weight, turning over to his other side and lays back down. A hand swoops up to your side of the pillow and paper crinkles in his fingers. Curious, Dally brings the sheet to his face, unfolding it with delicate precision. There in sloppy red ink reads, “Love you, good lookin’.” Dally gives an involuntary chuckled, turning the note in his hands to see your lip stick stain. He brings his own lips to your print, sets it on the nightstand beside him, and falls into dreams of you.


Your journal never left your side in fear an idea would strike you and you’d be stranded without a surface to scribble on. Every thought, troubling or exhilarating, filled its pages. Especially your feelings for Johnny. The gang had no idea of your feelings for him and it was your mission to keep it that way.

Sitting among the benches out front of the diner, your heart leaps as Johnny wonders up to sit with you. Closing your journal, you happily greet him as you offer to order something. Not one to deny food he accepts your offer for share an order of fries. Nervous, yet excited, you shoot up from your seat. Unfortunately for you, you’re so thrilled to see Johnny that you don’t notice your journal slip from the crook of your elbow.

The notebook drops, opening as it lands. Johnny’s gaze follows its motions, unintentionally reading the page that lays visible before him. His heart quickens, a blush forming on his neck as he reads your feelings for him. Every detail of your love for his greased back hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and how the little scare on his cheeks somehow made him even more handsome. He sees you returning, scurrying to close the journal again before you reach the table. He’s jittery, suddenly sweating, as you take a seat. Handing you the closed notebook, to which you have a mini freak out, he stands fidgeting frantically as he profusely apologizes for having to leave so suddenly and thanking you for the food. He grabs a hot fry and stumbles backwards awkwardly. When he finally turns he’s well aware of the warm blush on his skin and the wide smile on his face.


Ponyboy’s at your elbow asking your opinion on the most recent reading as you pack up your backpack, clumsily stuffing papers half-hazardly in the mess of your binder. In a rush to get to your next class across campus you’re a little shorter than intended with him. Apologizing for your abruptness, you hastily exit the classroom.

Unphased, a flicker of paper catches Ponyboy’s eye. It flutters to the floor, face down. He bends to pick it up, flipping it over to see your smooth cursive handwriting and doodles. A blush immediately reddens his ears, eyes scanning the sheet feverishly as he recognizes his name. There circled in hearts is “Ponyboy”. He glances up quickly to see if anyone else had seen the note and hurriedly stuffs it into his pocket. When he’s finally home he takes out the paper to review every inch of his name in your handwriting, adoring the little swoops of the ‘y’s. He keeps the note to his chest as he falls asleep with excited chills.


Drag racing was a shared passion between you and Soda, something that he absolutely loved about you. He adored the way you could holler louder than any girl there as the thrill of the race seemed to pour out of you. Afterwards he’d always take you out for a soda and a night drive to calm down after the wired race.

Windows down, the two of you passionately review the most recent race, arguing who really won at the photo-finish. The wind sweeps in blowing your hair wildly. He’s looking at you with such a loving gaze as he brushes a bang from your cheeks, a hand on the steering wheel and eyes glancing back and forth between you and the road. The argument calms as does your excitement, his car pulling up silently into your drive. You give him a sweet kiss goodbye, lingering on his lips dreading to pull away. You pop the car door open, but can’t bring yourself to leave just yet, there are so many more conversations to have. Glancing around the car you’re able to scavenge some spare paper and a pen, jotting down a quick note. His eyes are on you as you fold it, give it a small kiss, and lay it on his dashboard. With a bright smile you’re out of the car and at your front door, waving goodbye.

Soda sits in your front drive, carefully picking up your note, unable to wait to read it. The paper spreads, revealing, “I will always love you, my Sodapop Curtis.“ You’ve decorated the phrase with little hearts and arrows. His grin overtakes his face, heart swelling.


Steve’s giving you trouble for sitting atop the car hood of his most recent client. You stick out your tongue at him challenging him to do something about it. He’s on you, making you howling with laughter as he tickles your sides. You wiggle your way out of his hands, pouncing to the floor and skipping a few feet away. He makes no move to chase you, instead throwing his rag at you. You bounce out of range, deftly moving in as you pull a note from your pocket, steal a kiss to his check, and shove the paper in his shirt pocket. Swiftly stepping out of range again you blow air kisses as a goodbye.

He’s left standing with a smile tugging up to his ear. He shakes his head as he draws the letter from his uniform, curious. The envelope’s decorated with tiny flowers and smells of sweet perfume. Opening it, he finds a short note, "I love you more than you love cars. And that’s tough to do.” His laugh echos through the garage, his feelings for you blistering. Affectionately he tucks the letter back into its envelope and slides it into his back pocket.


Two-Bit sure knew how to party, finding the cheapest beer possible and lighting up the night with as many people as he could find. A big partier yourself, you always made a point to know where he would be during the weekends. You got into a strange ritual of getting together every Friday and Saturday, partying your asses off, and then trying to feebly recover the next afternoon. The two of you got so use to one another that it naturally flowed into a relationship.

The previous night proved to be one of the biggest bashes ever. It was a miracle when you woke up the next morning without a throbbing hangover, though Two-Bit was still sleeping off his damage. You smiled at his light snores and gently ruffled his skewed quaff. Doodling a quick note, you rolled it, and stuffed it in the neck of an empty beer bottle. Placing it under Two-Bit’s arm you stole a peck on the cheek and was off.

The bottle hit the ground an hour later as Two-Bit adjusted his position. The twinge of the glass stirred him conscious enough to see the paper sticking from the top of the bottle. He leaned over to grab it, yanking the note out and clumsily uncurled it. The little drawing of Mickey and Minnie Mouse made him chuckle, tossing it to the adjacent table with a smile at the thought of you as he got up to shower.

Dallas: *breaks door of the curtis house down while holding johnny* guys we need a place to lay low
The gang: *horrified* ur supposed to b dead
Dallas: long story short i broke out of hell and broke into heaven to get johnny, and now we r on the run
The gang: fucking savage man

birthday w/ the gang headcanons!

❃ soda demanded you celebrate your birthday at the curtis house.

❃ darry said he would bake the cake himself and spare everyone the trouble of buying one.

❃ pony and johnny woke you up on your birthday, succeeding in their goal of being the first people you saw on your birthday.

❃ two-bit sang a soulful “happy birthday” every time he saw you that day.

❃ dally called you “the birthday kid” and asked for your “age again, kid?” he grinned when you blushed.

❃ steve didn’t say much, but his actions made up for his words when he presented you with an expensive silver bracelet adorned with a few diamonds after cake when you two were alone.

❃ “I’ve been saving up for a while for that, you know.”

❃ soda called you “birthday princess” and pony insisted it was your “big day” although you tried convincing him otherwise.

❃ tim shepard arrived with curly, but they pretended they didn’t know about the party.

❃ curly went in for a hug, and tim shared a cigarette with you outside as the sun slowly set.

❃ “today’s your birthday, yeah?”

❃ “that’s what my mother tells me.”

❃ everyone danced around the curtis house to elvis, singing at the top of their lungs.

❃ the boys took turns dancing with you, spinning you around. two-bit tried to “dip” you and nearly broke his back and dropped you. said he forgot about his recent injury.

❃ dally decided that for your birthday it’d be fun to get a kiss on the cheek from each guy.

❃ staying up all night to cherish your birthday.

❃ the boys — except steve — all promised to get you a present as soon as they could afford it.

❃ they were determined, although you said it was fine if they didn’t get anything.

❃ it was the most fun you had had on your birthday in years, considering birthdays were never very fun for you.