#cherry x johnny

[magefelixir]

johnny likes math. it makes sense. it’s universal. no matter who you are, popular or not, girl or boy, poor or rich, black or white, 2+2 will always be 4. nobody argues over math. once you know what to do, you’ll be good at it. math is easy. math stays the same. 

cherry likes science. biology, physics, chemistry, all of it. she likes to understand why things happen. where they’ve come from. science causes everything. death, life, happiness, sadness? it’s all science. when you know science, you’re safe.

johnny never understood science. why would he need to know why things happen? all that matters is that it is. in a way, it scares him. to know all this stuff is happening all the time and he had no clue. he never got science.

cherry never understood math. there’s too many things to memorize, too many formulas, too many rules. you have to be constantly vigilant in math. if you mess up a little bit, everything goes wrong. she never got math.

it was only after meeting cherry did johnny begin to understand science. why she always believed that things were deeper than they seemed. why she always tried to  find the meaning and the cause behind someone doing something. he loved to watch her passionately explain scientific concepts to her.

it was only after meeting johnny did cherry begin to understand math. why he liked the stability of it. the clearly defined rules. math was like a breath of fresh air from the confusion around. she loved it when he would calmly guide her through the questions.

meeting each other gave them some insight into a world they never knew.

[badmilkk]

Love themm

[your-unfriendlyghost]

can I interest y’all in some low-effort stevepop in these tryin times?

[twobitsblade]

“suddenly it wasn’t only a personal thing to me. i could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. i could see boys going down under street lights because they were mean and tough and hated the world, and it was too late to tell them that there was still good in it, and they wouldn’t believe you if you did. it was too vast a problem to be just a personal thing. there should be some help, someone should tell them before it was too late. someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand then and wouldn’t be so quick to judge a boy by the amount of hair oil he wore. it was important to me.”

[hesmydrugstorecowboy]

“I'm America's sweetheart, chic, delicious, sweet tart” 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

[stew-skys-husband]

Here's my (late) entry to @crow2222 Parry DTIYS!! I wanted to make it my own by drawing the musical version. Since Paul and Darry were being watched, they waited until coming back home to smooch

[velvetchrry]

hockey player!ghoap x smm!reader thoughts

just thinking about how you’re a social media manager for a new hockey expansion team. johnny and simon — who grew up playing hockey together — both got drafted to the pros but have never played on a team together before. they’re both selected for this new franchise — the first time they’ve played together since they were kids.

simon is a defenseman. big, hulking — he’s the guy that's going to initiate fights with the players that are picking on his teammates. you aren’t going to get away with a dirty hit when he's around — he will retaliate. he will dish out a big clean hit when they think they’re safe. especially if it’s johnny. he’s the team enforcer, but still a talented defenseman.

johnny is your center star. he’s wicked fast on the ice, and is always showing off with plays you think are near impossible. he’s surprisingly humble — giving credit where credits due, passing to his teammates when they’re open instead of taking a wild shot himself. he’s the chatty one, always talking up the press during intermission and after the games over.

(and ofc we have gaz as a winger and price as the old goaltender close to retirement, who just can’t give up the game yet)

you were hired with a batch of social media managers in order to promote this new team to the locals. you want to attract season ticket holders. you want people excited for the upcoming season. you want people to meet their players — even though most of them have a history on the ice.

you’re really good at your job. your main job is keeping up with the videos and pictures of the team and players — creating the content that gets posted. your coworkers laswell responds to the fan tweets and comments — she’s got more of a knack for that, where you have the creative eye.

part of your job is getting to know the players and getting them to open up to you on camera, especially when you’re recording. you have them follow along to the latest tiktok trends, record practice sessions and even what time everyone shows up to the arena (simon is early, price is right on time, gaz and johnny are running late). normally your job would be staying on home ice — not following the team when they’re away — but to keep up with content the owners request you specifically go along. it’s been a total hit online and tickets are selling like hotcakes.

you start to really get to know the team — you fly with them and stay in the same hotels. you’re with them at every practice. they start requesting you be the dj at practice even. it helps loosen them up. you get great content. you joke with them. you even stand at the bench during games. (content content content)

johnny of course chats you up first. he's easily to film and he’s your star. he’s the one generating the views and likes and hearts and comments. he’s the one everyone’s excited to see. he’s the first to jump on a new trend you want to film and he’ll encourage everyone to do the same. he’s the only reason that you get simon to be on camera. (and he still won’t go on camera much, rather you have to get shots of him on the ice)

they do their best to include you in everything, but especially when they’re at an away game. if the boys are going out for dinner, johnny will make simon knock on your hotel room door and convince you to join. (you don’t take a lot of convincing, however johnny has to pour simon a stiff bourbon to work up the courage to go ask you). you’re included in celebrations when the team wins. they drag you to one of the guy’s houses for a private dinner and drinks.

johnny and simon start to separately invite you to things — just the two of them. it’ll start off as johnny acting like he has a great new idea for content. he and simon did grow up together, they are best friends. they could have a great little segment together.

but it turns into more. they sit on either side of you. johnny brushes a hand against your thigh and rests it there. simon has an arm on the back of your chair, always keeping his body in the way of any potential threats. always keeping you safe. their sweet little puck slut princess. their hands are all over you by the end of the night.

they take you to a shared hotel room — after all it would be irresponsible for any of your to drive home. and johnny and simon share everything. they’re happy to share a room.

they’re happy to share you.

[clarityroses]

This is what I do with my free time

The first drawing is technically my birthday drawing for pony but I’m like 2 hours late

[cheryyy-valancce]

Urggeheh bleh tried something new :(

Dall iee

@garbage-creature @gr3ase-g0t-h0ld @foottoe101001 @veggiesforpresident @plebbypebblepleb @frxstbyt

[two-entire-bits]

Once Marcia & Two-Bit start dating and Marcia learns enough sign she'll see the gang cursing out Socs when she's hanging out with her Soc friends and snicker to herself and they'll beg her to tell them what they're saying but she NEVER snitches. Half the time when the Socs get their panties in a twist over it the gang aren't even taunting them, they're just talking to each other in the vicinity of a Soc.

When Marcia figures this out she starts REALLY playing into it. Like, she'll see some of the guys she's hanging out with glaring over at the gang and she'll snicker or slap a hand over her mouth, just fake any type of reaction, and they’ll interrogate her to try and get her to tell them what they said and every time she's just like "oh no I can't repeat it, it's like, morally reprehensible, I would never say that out loud" "oh no, no, it's nothing, it's nothing!" "I'm not comfortable with repeating it, it's like, really really bad" etc etc etc and the boys will LOSE their shit. And it turns out it was just Pony enthusiastically telling Soda, Two, and Johnny about something that happened in the book he's reading.

Two thinks it's the funniest thing ever and gets the gang in on it, so then whenever they notice some Socs glaring daggers at them they'll play up their normal conversations to make it seem like they're saying the most vulgar shit ever. And it's just Soda talking about a stray cat that showed up at the DX the other day.

[cherryredstars]

PT 2 of mean Soap... PLLLLEEEEEEEAAAAAAAASE

Possibly he finally takes her virginity after getting jealous when Ghost (may or may not have been asked/paid to do it) making comments on how beautiful she was or flirting with reader when she brought Johnny something to eat when she came to visit him?

Part 1

Johnny who gets jealous a little too easily, poor thing.

Simon didn't mean any harm when he said you looked like the type of girl to happily take a thick load with a wobbly thank you. It was simply an observation. Who wouldn't imagine pretty old you gratefully taking load after load when you're dressed so cutely in your tiny shorts and getting them cold beers. Simon's just a scary, old man. Could Johnny really hate him for picturing his little girlfriend under him?

The answer: fuck yes.

In case you forgot, Little Lamb, you're supposed to thank him for being such a good boyfriend and filling you up with his seed. You're his good girl, not Simon's. He's the one you've been flaunting your cute little cunt to, asking him so cutely to fuck you nice and good. You couldn't simply forget about him after a silly little comment from Simon!

Maybe it's his fault. Maybe he made you wait too long. You have been a filthy little thing lately, desperately spreading your legs when he walks in and asking him to take care of you good and proper. No worries, bonnie! He'll happily take care of you now.

He'll make sure you take his cock real good. Little bonnie lass shaking in his lap while you bounce on his cock. You wanted his cock, right? So go ahead pretty thing, take as much of it as you can with your cute virgin stamina. Don't go complaining about how tired you are already! You didn't even get to come yet, lamb! How are you supposed to learn how to ride him properly if you don't even try? Aw, it's okay, Johnny is more than capable of thrusting up into that perfectly tight cunt, anyway. You'll have plenty of time to learn how to take him. Just make sure you thank him nice and loud after.

And when Simon gets a text from Johnny saying Guess you were right, LT attached to a video of your pulsing cunt leaking with Johnny's cum as you sob out a thank you, he'll be sure not to mention how you've already thanked him with a few pounds.

[magefelixir]

theres no way theres only 2 cherrycade believers on tumblr right :,)

[hmar177]

DALLAS WINSTON ONE SHOT <3

******SMUTTTTTTTYYYYY******

I'm not sure when I stopped loving Jack, but I know it crept out of the subconscious of my mind the second I saw that damn photo. I know I shouldn't feel this way, Jack is perfect. He comes from a good family, he's sweet and charming, he gets along with my friends and brings my mom flowers everytime he comes over. He was everything I could have dreamed for myself. He is who I should want. But that damn picture of Dallas Winston.

I wish he had just stayed on his side like he was supposed to.

My predicament started a few months ago when I was walking home from school. I had to stay late after my final class to run over a few plans with the committee for the dance coming up. It was my first dance that I was fully running myself and I was over the moon about it. I loved planning big events like this. My brain worked meticulously over every detail and it was so satisfying watching it all come together.

After I had finished my meeting with Sally and Davis, I found myself taking my normal walk home. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was just low enough in the sky to cast a gentle, warm glow on my face, the leaves left a quiet hum in my ears, and I found myself inhaling the glorious scent of the freshly landscaped houses as if the scent would live forever in my lungs if I breathed deep enough.

As I rounded the last corner before my street, I heard loud screeching coming from behind me. A car full of what seemed to be 4 or 5 rowdy boys came barreling down the street. Blasting loud rock music and howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came up fast. I stopped in place and watched as they came closer. They slowed up ever so slightly as they passed me, giving me a good chance to glance into the vehicle. I didn't recognize them, but I did recognize the driver. Dallas Winston.

With his sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose and a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, he held my eyes as he cruised by. I can't tell if I imagined it or not, but I thought I caught a hint of a smirk on his face before he punched the accelerator once more and took off before I could even register the entire exchange. It almost felt like I had just hallucinated that whole sequence.

What were a bunch of greasers doing over here on the west side? Not that I ever had anything against them, I just figured they would want to stay clear of a bunch of privileged, snotty folks who are constantly after their demise.

I had never met Dallas before, but I knew bits and pieces about him. Grew up with a rough homelife, dropped out of school, and even wound up in prison for a while. Everyone in this town saw Dallas and all the greasers as less than. I saw them as kids who just had shit luck when it came to the parents department.

I knew some greasers. There were quite a few in my grade, like Sodapop Curtis. He was one of the sweetest kids I ever met. Had a heart of gold, and a boatload of love for some girl Sandy he always seemed to mention. Soda dropped out a few months ago though after his parents both died tragically in a car accident. Another example of kids with shit luck and no ones around this town to sympathize for them.

Later that night, I found myself sitting at my desk trying to work on my short story. I was assigned by my English teacher to write a short story loosely based on a truly exciting and invigorating time in my life that made me feel alive. The only problem was I have never had an experience in my life that could remotely be described as such.

Everyday, I wake up, go to school, go to event committee meetings, or to my internship at the local newspaper, The Tulsa Chronicles. After all that, I either come home and do homework, or just hangout at the drive in with my friends and my boyfriend Jack. Nothing about my routine is special or interesting. It never changes and I don't see it altering anytime soon. In a town with so little to do, it is quite the tall order to ask us to find something interesting to write about.

I want to be a writer some day, so when I can't complete a simple short story for school, it horrifies me that I may be chasing after a hopeless dream. I intern at the Tulsa Chronicles in hope of it being a good addition to my college applications, but for now I am just helping with the printing and shipping of the papers. One of the editors told me if I had a writing piece that I was proud of, I could pass it along to them and they could give it a read and see if there were any opportunities for me to write something for the paper soon. I was hoping this short story could be that piece that I was proud of, but that is looking like a pipe dream now.

After staring at my blank paper for what feels like hours, I decide tonight is not the night that I am going to find any inspiration, so I turn out the lights and climb into bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me. Maybe I'll dream of those greasers, flying through neighborhoods and screaming, sounding like they are high on the freedom that life has to offer. I want a taste of what they are having.

The next day is the same as all the other ones, not to anyone's surprise. I woke up, went to school, and made my way over to the Tulsa Chronicles. When I walked in, the newsroom was buzzing much more than normal. In a town as boring as Tulsa, there is not a ton of news to report, so when the newsroom was like this, something major must have happened.

“Rose, get to the printer stat. We need to start loading up these boxes now!” my boss Susan yelled from across the room.

“On it!” I let her know.

As I made my way to the printer, pages were flying out faster than I have ever seen before. This must be a big story if they have the printers working this hard.

Page after page, I watched them stack into a nice pile until the cover page finally flew out.

It read, “Delinquent youths turn heroes after daring fire rescue”

Right next to the title, I saw their faces, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Caid, and Dallas Winston.

Pony and Johnny's pictures didn't shock me. Cherry Valance told me a few days ago how sweet and kind they had been to her at the drive in and they always seemed like kind approachable kids. But cherry had also mentioned that Pony and Johnny had protected her from, Dallas Winston

Dallas had always seemed so cold and foreboding. Even his smirk from yesterday's drive by left a chill down my spine. It wasnt that I was afraid of him, but Dallas Winston wasn't someone you just assumed you could become fast friends with. You had to earn his loyalty to be seen with him. His picture being tagged alongside this story seemed extremely out of character. Dallas had his family of greasers and he had himself. There wasn't much else he was looking after. Especially not strangers in some random church fire.

I picked up the front page and looked at it very closely. Part of me didn't want to assume like the rest of this town that this was a mistake, but a bigger part of me couldn't help but think this wasn't true. Dallas Winston saving children he didn't know? Dallas didn't walk by a child in the street without trying to terrify them in some way. Something isn't adding up. Were we all utterly wrong about him? I couldn't help but just stare at his picture, trying to see him run into that burning church. Coming out covered in ash, carrying a couple kids in his arms and placing them down gently before rushing back inside to save more. I felt a twinge in my chest. Something I haven't felt before.

“Rose! Quit daydreaming and pack up those papers. The delivery service will be here in 20 to take those boxes out. They better be filled!” Susan yelled.

“Yes of course.” I replied, suddenly taken out of my temporary, and odd trance.

As I loaded each paper into the boxes, my eyes lingered a little too long on Dallas’s face as each paper piled onto the next. After what must have been hundreds of papers, I “accidentally” misplaced one in my bag sitting next to me. I don't know why I took it. I would surely be getting one of these papers delivered to my house within the next day or so, but part of me wanted to just have this for me. I also didn't want to explain to my dad why I needed his morning paper, the one I had helped package and ship out and have had access to for over a day.

After loading the last box and as a sudden calmness came over the newsroom, it was finally time to head home. I grabbed my bag, making sure the paper was tucked in enough so that it wouldn't be seen, said goodnight to the staff, and made my way out.

As I walked out of the building, I looked up to see Jack leaned up against his shiny new sports car that his parents just bought him as a good job for making the basketball team present. It sounds ridiculous and it is ridiculous. When you come from money like Jack's family, there are very few occasions that don't involve an illustrious gift such as the sports car he now leans against.

I say all this with complete understanding that I come from a family very similar to Jacks. I am privileged and I know that, but I don't see that as a reason to act any differently towards others. Why should the number that's on my fathers paychecks determine whether I am a better person than others? It doesn't. But people like Jack feel that it does. But Jack makes me smile, and my mother hasn't shut up about those lilies he brought her this past weekend when he was over for dinner. Who could hate Jack, right?

“Hey there honey. How was the journalism world today?” Jack says with a smile as he opens the passenger side door for me to get in. Jack picks me up whenever he's in the area and he knows I'm here. It's very sweet of him. Another reason to love him, right?

“Busy. There was a big story today so there were a lot more papers to print and ship.” I told him.

“Really! What was the story?” He asked.

I hesitated for a second.

“Oh I don't remember. I didn't really get a chance to read it. Too busy getting them into boxes.” I explained. I don't know why I lied. I think a part of me felt guilty about the things I felt and thought as I looked at Dallas’s picture the past few hours and another part of me wanted to keep Dallas to myself for a bit longer because by morning everyone would be talking about him. More people would be picturing him as this grand hero, and I still wanted to be the only one who saw him that way.

The rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence. That was the best way to describe me and Jack's relationship. Comfortable. Our parents set us up freshman year of highschool and we fell into the narrative with ease. He was cute and popular. It made sense why I should want him, so I convinced myself I did. And it worked for a while. A long while now. But as we come towards the midway point of Junior year, I'm not too sure how much longer I can convince myself that Jack is what I want. But what would be my reason for leaving him? He was too nice to my parents? He made one too many jokes that made all my friends laugh? He was too popular? Too athletic? On paper he was perfect. Trying to tell anyone that my time with Jack was coming to an end would make me sound like the biggest fool. So I just stayed. There was no reason to leave, even though I wanted there to be so badly.

We pulled up to the front of my house and he came around and opened my door. I thanked him and looked up to my house. The big, beautiful white home sat on top of the hill at the top of my street with a huge porch that wrapped around the whole house, and perfectly painted blue shutters. It was truly out of a magazine and I was eternally grateful for being able to be raised in a home as beautiful as this one. The dining room light shined bright and I knew my parents were in there waiting for me to arrive so we could have dinner as a family. Jack took my hand and walked me to the door. My mother opened it as we took the final step onto the porch.

“Jack!’ My mother said, “How kind of you to bring Rose home. Won't you come in and join us for dinner.”

A pit immediately formed in my stomach.

“I'd love-” Jack started before I cut him off.

“I'm actually not feeling very well so I think I am just gonna go to bed.” I quickly sputtered out. Facing Jack I said, “Maybe another night.”

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing up the stairs and straight into my room before anyone else could say anything. That was definitely rude of me, but the thought of having to sit next to Jack for the next hour, knowing I smuggled home a paper with the only intention of staring at the man on the cover made me extremely nauseous. I may not feel for Jack the way I used to, but I wouldn't be disrespectful, and if I was gonna be disrespectful, I wasn't gonna allow him to eat dinner with me and my family as if everything was fine and dandy.

I sat down on my bed and immediately removed the paper from my bag. It wasn't often that I had strange outbursts such as the one I just had downstairs, so I knew my parents would leave me be for a while. I took the paper, and got comfortable. Reading the entire article front and back and learning that what the title states was indeed true, I took the cover and discarded the rest of the pages. Holding Dallas’s picture up, I thought about the words in the article and how they described the man I was looking at. Bold. Courageous. Brave. Not words I would initially think of when I heard the name Dallas Winston.

His face held hard lines in his jaw and forehead. He had strong dark features and striking eyes. He was beautiful in a rugged and tired way. A way that you never see here in the west side neighborhoods. I was mesmerized by his stern stare. I wanted to know everything about him and I wanted to know it now. I wanted to spend a day with him and learn what it took to earn his trust. To earn a glance from those haunting eyes. The way he looked at me as he rode past me in his car yesterday felt like a shot of espresso. It jolted something awake inside of me. I needed another hit. I craved it.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my body was up and at my desk. I was opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. I slowly and carefully cut around his face making sure not to accidentally trim anything important off, because truthfully it was all important. He was important and I needed to know why.

I held the small picture of Dallas Winston between my fingers, holding as close to the edge as possible, with fear I might smudge it, and I grabbed a piece of tape. Walking over to my bed, I taped the picture on my wall right next to where my head lays when I sleep. I could hide it during the day behind my pillows when I made my bed. It was just for me. He was my new interest. He was my excitement that I had been looking for, I just had to find a way to make these little daydreams something real. As I crawled into bed with the image of dark raven eyes flashing through my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, Jack, my parents, and Tulsa all feeling like a distant memory rather than my reality.

It could have been 3 hours or 3 minutes, but before I knew it, I was woken up by the sound of my desk lamp falling to the ground and a soft breeze coming from my window that I was sure was closed when I got into bed. I shot up like an arrow and reached for the lamp on my bedside table, flicking it on as fast as I could. As the light flooded the room, I was immediately met with the eyes I saw as I lulled myself to sleep. I had to be imagining him right? Dallas Winston stood right there in the middle of my bedroom, standing at least 6 foot 2, drowning in his leather jacket, with his signature blue jeans, and a black eye that was shining through even in the dim lighting.

“Dallas?” I began before he ran over to my bed and clasped his hand around my mouth and the other one slid behind my head keeping me quiet and still.

Slowly he shook his head as if to tell me, now is not a time for talking. I assumed he was scared my parents would hear him, which I am now realizing never even crossed my mind. My parents would lose their minds if they strolled into my room right now to find a greaser, Dallas Winston worst of all, standing in my bedroom at, I flashed my eyes to my clock, 2am. But my parents never even entered my head, nothing really entered my head. Not fear, not my parents, not jack. All I could think about was that incredible shot of adrenaline I felt when I saw him, and coming up with a plan to make him stay as long as possible so I didn't have to stop this feeling.

All of a sudden I heard sirens, and red and blue lights flash past the house at a high speed. I looked up at Dallas who was looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear. His hands were still firmly placed around my head. I studied his face while he wasn't paying attention to me, just as I was doing last night. But this was ten times better. The picture didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead from running I assumed, and his hair drooped gently in front of his eyes, giving him a rugged elvis look. I could stare at him for hours and not get bored for a second.

Once he saw that he was in the clear, he slowly brought his attention back to me. He studied my face for a second, a small shimmer of something in his eyes but I don't know what it was. After a moment he brought his eyes around my room, studying the pictures and posters on my walls that I'm sure I'll be embarrassed about later, to the books on my nightstand, and with another flick of his gaze, he was locked in on something behind me. He stared long and hard and I couldn't think of what it could be. He slowly came inclose, his lips right next to my ear.

“Well I'll be damned. Looks like I have a fan.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

My eyes widened, the picture. Dallas WInston was looking at the picture of him I cut out and taped next to my bed.

“Now tell me darling, if I remove my hands, can you stay quiet and not let anyone know I am here? Because I do have a few questions about this I'd like to ask.” He said quietly with a shit eating grin on his face, so good, that it could seduce the Queen of England.

I slowly nod. Why am I not terrified right now? A known felon is standing in my room right now in the middle of the night. He snuck in my window in an attempt to run from the cops. I am harboring a criminal right now as we speak and all I can think about is how I can end things with Jack so that this lasts forever.

“Good Girl.” He says softly, then slowly takes his hands off my mouth, immediately missing the feel of his touch. God I was so fucked.

He pulled over my desk chair and took a seat right in front of me, our knees almost touching. He held the picture between his fingers looking at it, then up to me.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing hanging up pictures of bad Dallas Winston on her pretty pink bedroom walls?” He asks.

I think I stopped breathing. What was I supposed to say? There was no real explanation for why I hung up the picture other than I was chasing a feeling I couldn't even name. I stared blankly trying to say anything, trying to think of something to say that would make him as interested in me as I was in him.

“Well?” He pushed after I sat there stunned for I don't even know how long.

“Uhh, I, Uh….. I think I want to feel what you feel.” I said. Shit. That didn't even make any sense. He for sure thought I was crazy. He looked at me puzzled.

“Honey, the last thing you want is to feel what I feel.” He gave a small laugh that created small needles in the back of my throat and moved to get up.

“I want to feel alive. I want to be reckless and have fun. You have fun, don't you?” I said quickly, anything coming out of my mouth was just a hidden plea for him to stay.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked back over to me. The moon casting a soft glow on his hard features. The shimmer in his eyes came back for a second. He slowly sat back down.

“Oh, I have fun. But the kind of fun I have would give a soc like you nightmares.” He said with venom on his tongue. I couldn't tell if he was threatening me or daring me to push him more.

“Show me.” I whispered. Dally smirked at me pondering my dare for a split second, before he slid his switchblade knife out of his pocket and softly dragged the blade from my fingertips, up my arm, and across my collar bone. Every hair on my body stood straight up. My breath hitched ever so slightly and he moved the blade to my neck and held it there.

Part of me was truly scared, and another part of me felt that there was something a bit performative too. Dallas Winston wasn't going to hurt me. I knew that for a fact. He leaned in close, taking a strand of my hair in his other hand, and brought his lips to my ear.

“Are you having fun yet?” He said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk in his words.

I backed away so I could meet his eyes. A fire raged behind them. I would give anything to look inside his brain, even for just a moment. I smiled at him and I could see the excitement grow. I don't know why, but I liked what was happening. I liked the uncertainty of what he was going to say and do, and I liked that I trusted him for no reason at all.

“I think I like you more than I should.” I say. I don't know why I said that. I wasn't even embarrassed that I did. It was like being close to him unlocked a new version of myself that I didn't know existed. A version of myself that had confidence and a desire to push the limits. I felt alive.

“Do you like me more than your boyfriend?” He grinned.

“Do you want me to?” I challenged. He grinned and his gaze flicked down to my lips for a moment before it returned to my eyes. The knife at my throat is all but forgotten.

“Let's make a deal. If I can kiss better than a soc, you have to go out with me.” He said.

“And if you can't?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Oh honey, there are very few things I can't do.” He said leaning in and attaching his lips to mine. I felt the knife hit the bed next to me as I melted into his kiss and his hands wrapping around my face.

It was soft and slow for all but a moment, before I knew it he was laying me down on the bed and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I guess it wasn't forcing it, more like me waiting for it and craving it.

My hands roamed his body, feeling his toned muscles through his thin black tee shirt. I slid his leather jacket off, as his hands found their way under my shirt. He planted his hand on my stomach and pushed me down to the mattress keeping me in place. A breeze gently floated in from the window, and it made me hyper aware of the slickness that was now coating my thighs.

His mouth moved to my cheek and then to my neck. I clasp one of my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. He placed his thigh between my legs allowing me to move my hips to get some relief.

God what was I doing? How did it come to me grinding on Dallas Winston in my bed at 2 in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. It was all too much. Too good.

“How am I doing sweetheart?” He said in my ear before he brought his face back up to look me in the eyes. “I think the tears in your eyes are telling me that I'm gonna see you tomorrow night.”

I moaned into his shoulder, as I felt his hand trail down my abdomen and underneath my waistband. He teased there for a moment, smirking down at me waiting for me to stop him, but there was no way in hell I wanted this to ever end. I gave him a quick nod before he cupped me over my underwear. He quickly covered my mouth with his own as he knew I was about to moan. He chuckled softly into the kiss.

“My God Dallas. Oh my god” I moaned into his mouth.

“I am a God, aren't I?” He growled before sliding his fingers underneath my underwear and inside of me. The pleasure was so overwhelming, that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out. He groaned from the pain, but I knew he liked it.

As his fingers pumped in and out of me, he slowly started to grind himself into my hip. He was hard. I felt him poking through his tight jeans, begging to be let out.

“Dallas. I want you.” I begged. I need more of him. I need him closer.

He removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty. I looked up at him and he immediately placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking me off of them. I let out a moan. He was trailing kisses down my chest, then my stomach, never taking his eyes off of me.

“I know baby, I know. Not yet though.” He assured me. “I just need a little taste first.”

He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and my underwear and slowly pulled them down, never stopping his trail of kisses that now led down my leg.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself as he was now eye level with my core. “Spread your legs for me baby.” I do what I'm told. “That's it. Good Girl. Now lay back and let me worship you.”

Dallas wastes absolutely no time diving right in and taking all of me into his mouth. He licks from top to bottom and back again before taking my clit into his mouth and sucking. “So sweet.” He moans into me.

I have to grab the pillow on my bed and cover my face because the scream I almost let out would have surely woken up the entire neighborhood. Dallas’s name on the tip of my tongue. The name about to escape with every moan that shoots through me, which would not only let the town know I was in the middle of the most erotic moment of my life, but also it was Dallas Winston that was buried between my legs.

I feel one of Dallas’s hands remove from my thigh and I look down to see what he was doing. I look down to see Dallas’s mouth still attached to my clit, but his eyes boring into mine with the most seductive look I have ever seen in my life. Without ever looking away from me, Dallas removes his mouth, now just an inch away from me, and takes a little gold foil packet out of his pocket and takes it straight to his mouth. He rips the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom out.

He stands up. His 6 foot 2, god-like stance, looming over me, made me feel so small and helpless on my bed. God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall right now, wanting to see what I might look like. My shirt pushed up, shorts and underwear thrown about the room somewhere, My hair probably a mess, and tears staining my face as Dallas Winston stands over me, slowly unbuckling his belt.

He smirks down at me and he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection and my god it was big. I honestly didn't know if it was gonna fit inside of me. Right on cue, as if he could read my mind, Dallas says, “Don't be scared darling, you can handle it.”

He goes to put on the condom, but I sit up quickly, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “Can I do it?” I ask him. He looks down at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that could kill.

“Fuck yeah you can.” he says in a breathy tone as he hands me the condom. I take the condom out of his hand and hesitantly grab his dick. A low grumble comes from his throat as I give it a little pump before rolling on the condom.

The second it's on, he pushes me on my back, and comes down on top of me. He starts to position himself at my entrance and looks me in the eyes. “Baby, as much as I want this to last forever, I'm not gonna last very long.” He leans in kissing me hard and chuckles against my lips and I smile at his words. Yeah, me neither.

I take a deep breath and he thrusts inside of me. I clasp my arms around his neck and hug him as close to me as possible. He is big and it hurts so good. I bite into his shoulder again trying to distract myself from the pain, but also from the fact that my orgasm is seconds away and he just got inside of me.

He whimpers in my ear as I kiss his neck profusely. He finds a steady pace that has me borderline drooling. “God Dallas, don't stop. It feels so good.” I barely get out because I can barely catch my breath. I shoot one of my hands out and feel something sharp hit my finger. I look down to see Dallas’s knife still sitting next to us on the bed. It must have nicked my finger. Before I can register what's happened, Dallas takes my bloodied finger and sucks it into his mouth while holding my gaze. His eyes were hooded, and looking drunk off sex.

“Come for me baby. Come on. I know you're there. Show me how good I make you feel.” He begs me. Between his words, and my finger in his mouth, I'm there in a second. Burying my face into his neck, my orgasm rips through me harder than it ever has before. My nails digging into his bicep and a drip of sweat going down my forehead. Dallas still thrusts into me hard and fast for a moment more before he takes my lips into his and I feel his dick twitch as he spills into the condom.

He lays on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear for what feels like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. He slowly removed himself from me, then pushed up so he was hovering over me again. He smiled down at me as I grabbed his face with my hands, pulling him down to kiss me. His kiss was so gentle, the word love flew through my head, but it was only a fraction of a thought.

I brushed my finger over his cheek bone, before noticing my finger was still bleeding. I brought it to my face, inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep at all. Just a knick. Dallas took my finger to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the cut. Adab of blood coating his lip, only for a second before he licked it off.

“What time are you free tomorrow?” He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck, no doubt leaving more hickeys.

“Maybe around 7?” I told him. “I just have to go break up with Jack, and then I'm all yours.” I giggled lightly. He came back up and looked at me with the most serious expression I saw all night.

“All mine.” He smiled.

***hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! DALLAS WINSTON I LOVE YOU***

[brat-pack-it-up-boys]

Back at it with the cherrycola secretly dating AU

Ponyboy: I met this real cute girl named cherry at the drive at the other night, gosh I could talk to her forever

Soda:

[moonynaturesethetic]

yup, that's my favorite type of tea 💀

[hesmydrugstorecowboy]

Pls forgive this bad edit I just wanted to post somethign 😂🤣