You're so ugly." You said to yourself as you looked in the mirror. You spat more and more insults at yourself until a throat was cleared. In that moment your swear your heart just stopped as you turned and saw Johnny. "Baby...." He said quietly as he walked up to you. He grabbed your hands and held them tightly, so you wouldn't pull away. He knew you try to walk past him like you always did when you didn't want to talk about something. "Is that how you really feel?" He asked. He sounded so hurt. Your eyes stung from rising tears. You didn't say a word, but you managed a nod. "Why?" He asked. You could tell he was holding back tears. "They're all skinnier than me, have nicer skin than me, prettier than me. You could have ANY girl you wanted, but you're with me. Those other damn girl point out my flaws like there's no tomorrow. I know I'm not pretty. I know I shouldn't be with you. I kn-" Johnny cut you off before you could say another word. "Don't talk like that! I think you're perfect. You may not have the most pretty skin or the thinnest body, but I don't care. You could looked like Marylyn Monroe or you could look like something that crawled out from the gutter and of love you. You. Are. Perfect. Fuck what everyone else has to say. They aren't me and they never will be. I love you and only you. Face the facts; you're perfect, I love you and no matter what anyone else says they're wrong." He said. He had a few tears rolling down his cheeks and you were practically sobbing. Johnny let go of your hands and gave you a hug. His arms were wrapped so tightly around you almost could breath, but you didn't care. When he pulled away he wiped your cheeks gently rather than his own. "I'm sorry." You whispered. Johnny shook his head no. "I'm sorry. I should've made you feel how you really are." He said. You felt another tear roll down your cheek. "I love you." You whispered. Johnny didn't answer, he just leaned in for a kiss.
His tongue ran down your stomach. It sent chills up your back. It felt amazing.
His tongue went back up to your lips as he started to unclasp your bra. He got it off, and threw it across the room.
But instead of it hitting the floor with a thud…
“Not on my couch.” Darry says, bra in hand
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
“Yeah?” He says, looking over at you.
“I found this in the attic.” You say, tossing it over to him.
It was his baby blanket, a dark blue color.
He looks at it wide eyed, just taking in the memories.
“What about this?” He asks, still looking at the blanket.
“Well I thought our baby would like it.”
“Planning ahead huh?” He grins.
“Only 8 eight months ahead.” You smile.
He looks up at you in surprise.
“You’re pregnant?” He asks, standing up from the couch to face you.
You just smile.
He scoops you up into a giant hug.
How were you going to tell him you got laid off?
Y’all needed money… You had just bought a house, and money was short.
So of course you had to lose your job.
You walking into your house, and flop onto the couch. You were pretty much done with all the stress.
Darry walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.
“What’s up babe?” He said, chuckling at the sight of you sprawled on the couch.
“I got laid off.” You mumble.
He’s silent for a second, taking this in. “I’ll pick up another shift.” He says.
“No, no.. You don’t have to…” You start.
“No.. I’d make more money than you would. It’s gonna be fine I promise.”
He picks up the naked two year old and plops him into the bath. “There. Your in. Stay in.”
You were holding baby Stephanie, who would not stop crying. Why did you and Dally even agree to watch Johnny’s kids? This wasn’t a great experience.
“Hey, (Y/N), look at this,” Dally grins.
You look in the bathroom to see Josh, sitting in the tub, his hair greased back, smiling like a maniac.
You can’t help but burst out laughing, only making the baby cry more.
“Stephie, shut the hell up!” Josh says from the tub.
“Josh!” You scold. You glare at Dally.
“It wasn’t me!” Dally says.
“Yeah right.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“In my opinion, we are the greatest babysitters ever.” Dally said, smiling.
“Hey,” Dally whispers in your ear.
“Hey,”you whisper back.
“You’re parents home?”
“Yeah, they’re asleep.”
“So nothing fun?”
“Dally, you pig.” You laugh.
“Nah, I love just cuddling with you.” He says, snuggling closer to your body.
You’re silent for awhile, feeling the heat of his body.
“I love you.” You whisper.
“Not as much as I love you.” He squeezes you.
“Are you crying?” You ask as he walks in.
“No.” He mutters, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
“Yes you are, you big softie,” Ponyboy grins.
“Is she all ok?” Soda asks, still sniffling.
“Yes, she’s in perfect condition.” The doctor grins. ” 6 pounds, 9 ounces. You want to hold her?” He asks Soda.
Soda just nods his head. The doctor hands him the baby.
(OK INSERT SODA BABY IMAGINE HERE TO GET SODA FEELINGS)
Soda just smiles.
“Hey, Grace.” He says softly. “Hey.”
“She looks like you.” Ponyboy says to you as he looks over Soda’s shoulder at his niece.
“Pretty, just like her mom.” Soda glances at you.
I had it all ready.
My parents wouldn’t care.
It would be a blessing for me to be gone.
I take a deep breath and take a final look in the mirror. My dark skin. Even darker eyes. The black hair I could never keep back. The scar on my cheek.
I run a hand through my hair, exhale, and open the mirror to see the different bottles of pills glaring at me; tempting me.
It would hurt the least. Less than the blade. But it might take longer. The rope would be quicker.
I reach for a bottle, twist the cap, and pour a few pills in my hand. I take another bottle and do the same.
I take a look at the drugs in my hand. I sigh, tilt my head back, and drop the pills in my mouth.
“JOHNNY!” I heard my drunk mother screech.
I spit the pills back into my hands.
I wouldn’t do this in front of my mother. Even though she was awful, she still is my mom. Im still her son.
My parents wouldn’t care.
It would be a blessing for me to be gone.
I take a deep breath and take a final look in the mirror. My dark skin. Even darker eyes. The black hair I could never keep back. The scar on my cheek.
I run a hand through my hair, exhale, and open the mirror to see the different bottles of pills glaring at me; tempting me.
It would hurt the least. Less than the blade. But it might take longer. The rope would be quicker.
I reach for a bottle, twist the cap, and pour a few pills in my hand. I take another bottle and do the same.
I take a look at the drugs in my hand. I sigh, tilt my head back, and drop the pills in my mouth.
“JOHNNY!” I heard my drunk mother screech.
I spit the pills back into my hands.
I wouldn’t do this in front of my mother. Even though she was awful, she still is my mom. Im still her son.