her way ✰ (dallas winston x reader)

chapter 1 - north side

~your p.o.v~

I walked the streets of greaser territory, looking around desperately for my brother. I had seen him head off this way with his friends, hoping I could find him and convince him to come home.

I ran my hand through my hair, stress and annoyance rushing over me. He was always running off with his friends and getting drunk.

I felt uncomfortable walking around out here by myself, but I had no choice. I had to make sure my brother wasn't off killing some innocent kids, because who knows what ran through his mind when he was drunk.

I looked over to a huge grass field, my eyebrows furrowing when I saw something familiar.

A blue mustang.

The blue mustang looked out of place in greaser territory, and I immediately knew I had found who I was looking for.

I broke out into a jog, running into a field to see monkey bars and a fountain.

The sight at the fountain horrified me, though.

I took off sprinting now.

"Bob!" I yelled, making my way towards him. I watched as he drowned a poor greaser in the fountain and another one was sprawled across the ground, seeming beaten up.

"Bob, you better listen to me!" I yelled louder. The soc paused for a moment and turned to me. He was clearly drunk.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? You know this isn't our territory." Bob almost seemed impressed I had the bravery to come here.

Bob Sheldon was a soc. He hated greasers with a passion, and constantly felt the need to assert his dominance. He owned everything he wanted, because his parents never knew how to say no to him.

Or should I say our parents never knew how to say no to him?

Bob Sheldon was my brother.

My cruel, brutal, spoiled brat of a brother.

I stopped sprinting at him because he had given the greaser some time to breathe. Instead I had slowed to a speed walk, my angry eyes staring into his annoyed ones.

"Mom and Dad might not scold you, but I sure as hell will." I growled, coming face to face with him.

"Scold me? What for? I'm just showing these grease bags who's boss." He spat.

I looked down at the boy who was desperately trying to catch his breath and then to the boy laying on the ground.

"Well, you've done enough. Didn't you already jump that kid?" I pointed to the boy who had been laying on the ground. He got up, blade ready.

"Easy, pal. I'll handle this asshole." I told the boy, holding a hand up to him. The boy paused, seeming hesitant to trust me.

I mean after all, I was a soc.

Socs and greasers never got along.

"Look what you already did to the poor kid! He's gonna have scars on his face for the rest of his life because of what you previously did to him with you and your stupid fists. And your rings didn't help at all!" I exclaimed. I knew Bob wasn't really listening. He was too drunk to care about what I had to say.

"Listen to me, Bob. Let the kid go." I referred to the boy he still had a tight grip on.

"Why should I?" He snarled. The two greasers seemed to be holding their breath, unsure about what was going to happen. The smaller, tan scarred boy still had his blade but it was resting at his side. The other boy in just a muscle shirt was drenched, probably freezing to death.