#dally x reader

I’m so sorry this took FOREVER iv been traveling again and they had my ass in the middle of the ocean

Warnings/whats going on: Dallas Winston x fem reader, Dallas catches you reading smut, Dally is an asshole about it (what’s new), he reads your book out loud, embarrassment (kink???), definitely a biting kink (ew omg that’s totally disgusti- me too), smut, marking out, fingering, hickys, I just blatantly ripped off twilight, unprotected sex, don’t have unprotected sex the government touches kids, that’s it I think, oh and I actually proof read this time!

❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️✨❤️

Rumers

Dallas Winston x crybaby!reader

The popular girls in your school where the worst thing in your whole life.

Sometimes, you wished you could just drop out of school and spend your days doing odd jobs at diners. That was how much you hated the girls at your school.

They always did mean things to you, like pushing you down the stairs, spilling drinks on you, or just calling you names.

Today was no different. When you entered the worn down school building, minding your own business with your head down, you could already feel everyone’s eyes on you.

That was strange, you were almost never in the spotlight.

After your first class, you rushed to the bathroom after finding more people staring at you.

You showed your teeth, making sure there was nothing in them, checked your clothes to make sure they weren’t inside out, but everything was perfect.

You were still examining yourself when two girls walked in, placing there bags on the floor. You could hear their loud conversation from across the room. “Did you hear? Y/n, that girl in our class? Apparently she’s pregnant!”

Your head snaps to the side, staring at the girls. You weren’t pregnant, how could you be? The girls at the school you were at didn’t even know that Dallas was your boyfriend!

You could feel your hands shaking as you shoved them in your pockets. You looked automated now, grabbing your bag with trembling hands before getting out of the bathroom as fast as you could.

You left the school building, abandoning the rest of your classes as your feet ran somewhere. You didn’t even know where you were going until you stopped at a front door with the word “BUCK’S” stamped on it.

Your fist raised , knocking on the door so softly you didn’t think anyone even heard. When it didn’t open, you knocked harder, and the door opened, revealing a tall, lanky boy with blond hair. “We aren’t open yet, scram-“ buck paused, looking down at your familiar face with tears welling up in your eyes. You could see him soften in real time, stepping away from the door so you could come inside. “C’mon in, kid.”

Your shoes made the stairs creek as you stepped on them, making your way upstairs and into the bedroom you had been in many times before.

You opened the door, finding Dallas laying on his bed, smoking.

He looked up, his face dropping from a small smirk to a slightly worried look. “Hey doll, what’re you doing here? Don’t you have school or some shit?” His long fingers took the cigarette out his mouth, stubbing it out onto the ash tray.

Your feet moved automatically, bringing you to him. You practically collapsed in his lap, the tears that were forming the whole way here finally falling.

His hand went to the back of your head, rocking you slightly in an attempt to stop the cries. “What’s wrong, doll, hm?” Dally says. Soft cries were falling from your lips now, getting muffled in the worn fabric of his shirt. “S-some girls said I’m pregnant, and now everyone’s looking at me weird.” You hate how your voice wobbles so much, wishing you could just say what you want to without sounding like gibberish.

You could feel rough lips against your forehead, your legs thrown over Dallas’ lap.

He says nothing, continuing to rock you. Slowly, you calm down, the scent of cigarette smoke filling you.

Your cries quiet down into soft sniffles, wiping away the tear streaks with the back of your jacket.

“You’re fine, yeah? You’ll be alright.” He murmurs, taking a drag of a cigarette that he just lit.

His lips met yours, transferring some of the grey smoke into your mouth before blowing the rest out and into the air.

You cough slightly, remembering what he told you to do and blowing it out instead of choking on it.

“There you are, good girl. How ‘bout you tell me more about those girls and their boyfriends, huh?”

summary: for the first time ever, dallas winston cares about a girl. so much so that he asks the adultest adult he knows for advice, even if it will get him teased a little. wc: 1.9k+ cw: hurt/comfort, happy ending, i may have fluffified dally a little

The slam of the Curtis’s front door is so loud that everybody straightens up, immediately expecting a yell from Darry for treating the house so poorly. Everyone is surprised when that doesn’t happen. More so, everyone is surprised when they turn to find Dallas looking morbidly stressed, his face void of any of its natural colour.

“What do I do when my girl is angry and I need to make her… not angry?”

The boys all cackle loudly at Dallas’s dilemma, and Ponyboy, who would usually refrain from making any comments at Dally’s expense, feels brave enough to question “You mean you haven’t dumped her for being mad at you?”

“Wow, you must like this girl.” Teases Steve, grinning widely. Dallas doesn’t find any of this funny, his face unchanging from its current state of stress. He’s not going to acknowledge Steve’s jab, because yes, he does like you, and indeed, you are the only girl he hasn’t dumped for disagreeing with him. However, Dallas does have to admit, he doesn’t understand why are you’re mad at him. Not at all.

“Where’s Darry?” He asks, huffing when three hands immediately point down the hall in the direction of the three rooms. From his spot in the living room, Dally can see that the bathroom door is cracked open, which only means one thing: Darry is in his bedroom. He hesitates; there’s no way he can just stroll up and knock on Darry’s door to ask advice about a girl. One he’s only been with for a couple of months at that (which is longer than he can say for his past relationships).

“What’s wrong, Dally boy?” Starts Two-Bit, more engaged in the conversation than his television show for once. “Too scared to knock on big ol’ Darrel’s door?” Dallas huffs, walking past the boys in the room and in the direction of Darry’s room. He pauses in the hallway when the older boy’s door cracks open on its own and Darry comes out, a white towel slung over his shoulder. When his eyes lift up from the floor and land on Dally, they go wide in surprise, not expecting him there at all, let alone looking so vulnerable.

“Darry, Dally wants girl advice from you!” Calls Sodapop from the living room, and Dally feels too called out to retort anything back to him, the tips of his ears going bright red. The corner of Darry’s lip quirks up, but he shakes his head to wipe the smile off his face, nodding towards the dining table, where he walks past Dally to take a seat. Dally hesitantly takes a seat, throwing a glare to the five boys in the living room before sitting down in front of Darry.

When Dally doesn’t begin the conversation, Darry raises his eyebrows up, causing the man in front of him — very much resembling a boy in his sheepishness at the moment — to mumble “She’s mad at me.”

“I figured. What did you do?” Muffled chuckles behind Dally have him crossing his arms over his chest. He deliberates asking Darry to tell them to leave, but no, he needs to keep his reputation. “I don’t know what I did wrong!” Dally exclaims, but all Darry does is cross is arms over his chest and lean back into his chair. Dallas sighs. “Her words were: I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you when you’re just a man. I have other things I could be doing.”

“Were you late again, Dally?” Johnny asks from where he’s sat in the living room, and Dally furrows his eyebrows, twisting around in his chair to look at the younger boy. He finds everyone looking back at him expectantly. “What do you mean ‘late again’?”

“As in, were you late to a date just like you’re late to everything else in life?” Clarifies Steve.

“I’m not late to everything!” Complains Dally defensively, squaring his shoulders when everyone’s faces morph into deadpanned expressions. He turns around to Darry, expecting the man to defend him to the other boys. What he’s met with is the same unimpressed expression.

“Dallas, you’re always late.” He says, not offensively, but truthfully.

“Man, it sounds like she’s doing you a favour by not breaking up with you. If a lady says she has lots of other things she could be doing, she’s talking about men.” Dally hears shuffling before Two-Bit pulls out a chair and sits next to him at the table.

“Two-Bit is right, Dallas. She’s giving you a chance to treat her the way she deserves before she leaves you for someone else who will treat her better than you. The reason she hasn’t left you yet is because she likes you.”

Dallas furrows his brows, his arms loosening over his chest. “All that over being late a couple of times?”

Darry sighs, placing his towel on the back of the chair beside him. “Dally, every time you’re late, you show her that you care less and less. You don’t value her time, so you don’t value her. Do you care about her Dally?”

Darry’s question surprises Dally, who swallows thickly, intimidated by the clearly watchful eyes around him. But after a long moment, he nods, voice quiet as he admits “Yeah, I care about her a lot.” Darry nods, appreciative of the boy’s honesty. He replies in a soft voice. “Okay, good. Now you have to show her you care. And that starts by showing up on time. But you can’t just do the minimum for a girl if you want her to know you like her. You’ve got to go out of your way to do things for her.”

“Like flowers.” Dally sighs in annoyance. A slap on the back of his head has him pushing his chair back to fight whoever it was, but a stern call of Dally’s name from the one person he fears has him slumping back in his chair. He soon discovers the hit had come from Sodapop, who takes a seat at the head of the table and tells Dally “Man, you don’t know the things I’d do if I still had Sandy. Flowers are nothing.”

Flowers are nothing.

Dallas replays that sentence in his mind over and over for the rest of the day, even when he lays on his bed back at Buck’s, asking himself about the things you love. How would he show you that he cares?

He’s never asked a girl to be his girlfriend before. He’d go on a couple of dates then go unresponsive, or acknowledge them just enough that he could have company on boring nights. But he’d taken you out more times in a single week than he’d had a total number of dates with any other girl in the entirety of their relationship. Dallas doesn't just want your company, he craves it. He likes taking you home from dates and kissing you softly, and likes having an arm around you no matter where you are. He used to hate when girls draped themselves over him on their dates, but with you? He needs everyone to know that you’re his.

So he buys the flowers, he buys some chocolate, and he buys something infinitely lasting. Something meaningful. Well, it’s not meaningful to him, but he knows from the stack on your bed that you’ll keep the teddy bear forever. And of course, he climbs the pipe to your bedroom window instead of having to face either of your parents at the front door. It’s a little bit of a struggle with all the things he’s carrying, but he manages.

Dally becomes sad while he looks through the window. You’re sat on the floor, cassette player next to you as you massage a thin cream onto your smooth face. He can’t believe you’ve ever been sat somewhere waiting for him, thinking he didn’t care about you. How did you manage to look at him afterwards?

Finally, Dally brings a hand up to knock on your window. Your head snaps towards the window, and Dally sees you squint at the glass before your expression turns to one of realisation. Dally smiles to himself when you push yourself off the floor, rushing to open the window. He sees the conflict across your features when you come face to face with him, and gulps thickly when you take a step back for him to enter your room. He drops his little gifts onto the floor before hoisting himself into your room. A little huff leaves him when he drops onto the floor, turning around to shut the window behind him. He scrambles to pick up the bouquet and teddy bear, leaving the chocolates on the floor so he can turn to you with a feeling he can only describe as vulnerable.

“Um, I do care.” Dally says, clearing his throat. You put your hands on your hips, a small frown making its way onto your features, but you let Dally continue. “And I didn’t realise that being late meant that I was showing you I don’t care. But I understand that now. I get that I need to make more of an- an effort with you so you don’t leave me for some other man.” Dallas blinks quickly, moving his gaze to the floor. He feels like throwing up. He is going to throw up. He inhales shakily, feeling a lump form in his throat. God, he is about to spread the most vile story about you if you turn him away now.

Except you don’t.

“Look at me Dally.” Dally refuses to glance up at you. You bring a hand up below his chin, pushing his face up so he can meet your gaze. You're not frowning anymore, but you still don't seem exactly happy. You hate that he looks adorable like this. Yes, you’re still mad at him, and no, you don’t understand how he didn’t see your point from the beginning, but ultimately, he has never stripped himself from his tough exterior in front of you, and it is just so charming.

“Hey. I can forgive you this time.” You tease, only half joking. He knows. Dally nods, hesitantly beginning to wrap his arms around you. You step forward into his chest, leaning into his body so he can hug you, and you bring your arms up to hold him in your arms too. “Can I… Can I get a kiss?” Dally mumbles against your hair, and you pull back slightly to look at him. You tilt your face up, a hand snaking up his chest to rest on the side of his neck.

Dally smiles softly at you before leaning in, his lips melding with yours. You can feel the way his entire body relaxes against yours, and it makes you breathe out in amusement. You pull away from the kiss, and Dally’s body jerks forward to follow you, but you put both hands on his shoulders to stop him. He looks betrayed for a moment, but you take the bouquet and cute bear from his hands, gently placing them on your bed before throwing yourself onto him. He stumbles back a step as you wrap your arms over his shoulders, lip slamming onto his, and he can’t help but smile into the kiss, his arms tightening around you to hold you close to him as he kisses you with all the passion he can muster.

When you pull away, it’s because you’re out of breath. Dally is panting too, but it seems he would have kept going if you hadn’t broken the kiss. He puffs his chest up, suddenly arrogant again, and you roll your eyes, pushing away from him to sit on your bed. You pick up the teddy bear, smiling down at it, and turn it around to face Dally.

“So what do you want to name him?”

Dally feels honoured to have even been given that opportunity.

SICK OF THIS

Dallas Winston|mini-fic|sickness

w: cursing

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It was the time of year again. But only this time of year it wasn’t so much of a seasonal thing, it was an ‘any time of the year’ thing. It was a Summer thing. And Dally Winston happened to catch that Summer thing. A nasty ass cold. The bed at Bucks was very nice to him and he couldn’t shake the fact that he was as sick as a dog in hot boiling heat.

“F-fuck it all to hell…” he muttered underneath his breath that cracked when he breathed. The mucus in his throat was keeping him from talking much, making his throat sore up like as if firecrackers went off in it. “Damnit m-my head, my t-throat is killing me…” Don’t even get him started on his temperature, it’s either he’s in this boiling heat or he might as well be in Antarctica. And sure enough, he started to shake and shiver from the cold he was feeling outside his body, when inside he was a fucking inferno. “J-jes—man, s-so f-fucking c-cold…” he shivered more. He was more pissed than he was cold though. That was when you came through his bedroom door. “Dally…?” You walked in with some chicken soup in one hand and cup of electrolyte juice in the other. “Hey, got your food here. You still hungry?” You asked him softly as you approached the sick man on his bed. You saw that Dally was completely covered in blankets and was curled around like a little snail in its shell. He looked… delicate. Fragile. Weak. Vulnerable even. It was a side that you would hardly see from Dally, but it was refreshing to know that he could still lower his defenses down for you when you held up a spoonful of soup up for him. “There easy does it…” he had sat up to be fed. “You k-know you don’t h-have to feed m-me like I’m some d-damn kid.” You knew he was going to protest though, that wasn’t going to change even if was lowering his defenses, he always had something to say about it. “Hey, while you’re in Alaska, see if anyone else there can feed you.” You joked around with him with a soft chuckle. And he just slowly but surely pulled out his middle finger to you, also in a very signature Dally jokily way. “I love you too.” You said with another chuckle. By this time Dallas was sitting up eating his soup with his blanket wrapped around him making him look like a cute ass worm. You get up from his bed and get the drink for him and place it on his night stand. “You need electrolytes, bunch of fluids in you. Stay hydrated.”

“Hate this f-fucking cold, man… W-why you even doing this?” He asked as he looked up at you, still shaking like a damn leaf on a windy day. You didn’t have to do this but you wanted to, you loved him and you didn’t like seeing him sick like this.

You sat down again now gazing in his eyes, “I’m doing this because I want to tend to you while you’re sick. You’re sick. Very sick. I want you feeling better soon.” He huffed a bit but it didn’t go far from that. Until he spoke up again…

“Shouldn’t y-you be wearing a m-mask or something? You really s-shouldn’t even be here, y/n.” He said firmly through his sore throated voice. “Well, I am. Now get over it.” You said back to him as you dabbed a rag on his sweaty forehead. “I ain’t leavin’ ya.”

Dallas shook his head and took the cup of juice. He took gradual sips of it, then looked back up to you, “You know, I don’t r-really need a n-nurse.”

“Well you got one. And I’m happy to help.” You happily said to him. “You really should be w-wearin’ a mask when you’re ‘round me.” He kept protesting about that damn mask.

“Well, I ain’t.”

“Well, y-you should.”

“I’m not.”

“W-wear a mask, y/n.”

“I’m good, really.”

“N-no, y-you’re not.”

“I’m good, Dal.”

“Wear a damn mask!”

He snapped… that was the first full sentence he spoke without shuddering. And he actually rose his voice too. Making you draw back just a little. He didn’t mean to but he was worried about you, but he wasn’t about to admit that shit.

Dally leaned back a bit, knowing he overstepped on his temper. His eyes softened as he saw that you were looking down. “Hey…”

You looked up to him, slowly. You felt bad about fighting with him over wearing a mask to protect yourself but you knew it was okay. You trusted this process and were more than happy to help him. He was going to speak again and this time he definitely looked like he felt bad about snapping at you.

“I just—just don’t want you getting sick too. Okay? One person sick is enough.” He said in a slightly softer tone but quickly turned back in to gruff tone at the end of it. You knew he didn’t mean it. So you wrapped your arms around him. Blanket and all. Gently. Closely. He didn’t protest. It took him off guard, tensing up from it, but then he was slowly leaning in to it. Succumbing to the comforting embrace you gave him.

“I don’t care if I get sick. I’m here for you.” You said in his shoulder.

And with that, his heart felt warm. That was a fucking first for Dallas Winston but I guess tuff sick greasers can have an off day too. Dally smiled as he held on to you.

“Come here.” He said as he turned to lay down. He was really tired now and all he wanted was to just lay down next to you. He pulled you in and held you as his little spoon. While he played big spoon. You smiled when you felt his heart beating on your back and his strong arms around your waist.

From the on, you didn’t care about anything else. No cold. No soup. No racket coming from Bucks party downstairs.

Just y’all two.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

post!death dally x cade!reader

kind of happy ending?

warnings - angst, post! Major character death, slight implied sex if you squint

summary - two weeks after the death of both your little brother and boyfriend / months later, you find a hidden secret

word count - 2k

Dallas Winston x Cheerleader-reader!

Summary: Dallas watches from the sidelines seeing flicking up your skirt, and winking at him while you’re out on the field cheering in your little uniform and pigtails plopped on both sides of your head. After winning the game you both see each other at a party and head to a private room where Dallas can use those pigtails to his own pleasure

WARNINGS: hair pulling, degradation, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, cussing, alcohol, p in v

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Dallas didn't know how he got dragged to this stupid football game with Sodapop and Steve, but here he was, standing by the stands; a smoke in hand, and leather on his back, sending dirty looks to every little kid that ran near him.

Loud boisterous cheers echoed in the stands from rowdy teenagers and jeering parents. Popcorn, candy wrappers, and empty cups littered the crevices of the flimsy metal.

The score was Home 16, Guest 10, nearing the end of the second quarter and close to halftime.

Upon arriving, Steve and Soda had found their girlfriends and were currently in a very long line to the concession stands, and probably wouldn't be getting back until the start of the third quarter by the way the line was moving.

The stadium lights buzzed brightly like an alien spaceship against the pitch-black sky. The cool air was crisp and bleak in that late-night, fall weather. Cheers erupted loud as another point was scored, helmets clashed, pomp pomp's thrown up in the air.

His gaze got caught by the sparkling forms of bodies in front of the stands, behind the fence guarding the field from the watchers. The high school cheerleaders with their pompoms in hand and short-cutting uniforms way too short to be appropriate.

It was definitely a sight to see, much more interesting than whatever was happening on the field.

"Let's Go Warriors!" The loud girlish cheers erupted, somersaults flying in the air with the sound of claps and stomps echoing off the black top track. They were all high ponies and sweet smiles, staring at the crowd.

Dallas gazed drifted through them, catching sight of you, a pretty little cheerleader staring dazzlingly at the crowd; tiny pink uniform, short skirt, glossy lip gloss, two little pigtails on the back of your head.

You were the type of girl that everyone liked, that all the guys wanted a piece of. You were the pinnacle of that popular rich soc girl who got good grades, had lots of friends, and went to beer blasts on Friday nights.

He continued watching you cheer and stand there while the game went on, looking all pretty and perfect. Dallas immediately wondered how loud he could get you for him, seeing you shout those cheer chants. He bet he could make your moans bounce and tremble off the walls.

The whistles blew, the timer setting to zero. A soft pause came over everything. People shuffled off the stands to use the bathroom, or grab something from concessions. Dallas snuffed out his cigarette that had now smoked down to the bud, all he could taste from it was ash and the taste of burnt trash.

All of a sudden a heavy arm slung around his shoulders, "Dally my man, god did you see that line we were in? Was fucking slower than watching paint dry!" It was Steve; Soda was beside him with Sandy, and Evie was staggering behind Steve.

"Yeah, bout time. About thought you guys went up and hopped over to Canada."

Steve bellowed an ugly and belting laugh, "I bet we could've gone to Canada and come back before it'd be our turn to order."

Out on the field, the football players were huddled up in a circle as the coaches went over the rest of the game plan for the second half of the game. While in the middle of the field, the cheerleaders assembled in formation as music began bellowing out from the speakers above.

"Oooh half-time show, my favorite," They all moved up to the gate with a clear view of the sight on the field.

As the performance played out, the crowd peering in, watching the way the girls flipped in the air like batons. Pyramids with girls being thrown up in the air that gave your heart a little jolt. It was mesmerizing the way they tossed, turned, twirled, and kicked in the air. 

Dallas leaned up against the fence watching the way those pigtails swished, side to side. A big bright smile on that pretty face with big battering lashes that kept drifting his way. A small cheeky smile crept up as you bit your bottom lip at the corner and winked at him.

His eyes narrowed, glancing at both Soda and Steve. Dallas, however arrogant was checking to make sure it was surely him that winked at him. Soda and Steve were engrossed in talk with their girlfriends, just barely paying attention to the cheerleaders on the field.

He looked back up and you turned your face away, red, bashful, and blushing. He huffed under his breath, the corners of his lips curving up.

Well ain't that a sight to see

-

On the west side of town, the big brick house that was notorious for beer blasts was hosting yet again another party for winning the game, blasting loud music so loud you could hear it from across two streets. Everywhere there were little cups with alcohol, and people crammed in tightly next to each other like a can of sardines.

Steve and Soda were somewhere else as Dallas stood, leaning up against the wall drinking some room temperature beer, sharing a cigarette with another fellow greaser that had no business along with Dallas at a soc beer blast.

It wasn't long before he saw you walk into the party with that stupid slutty little cheerleader outfit still on, seriously how does the school approve of those (not that Dallas was complaining at all)

He watched as you greeted each one of your friends in a commotion of giggles, and talking over each other like you all didn't see each other not even an hour ago.

He stalked to the kitchen to get another drink, for his had run low and couldn't bear take another sip of warm beer. He popped open the cooler, grabbing a beer out of the ice, then heard soft patters of footsteps drawing near to the kitchen.

As he cracked open his beer he saw you swing around the corner. Pigtails bopping behind you as you went to get a drink from the cooler, not yet noticing him. He stared unabashedly as you bent down, skirt riding up along your thighs, showing the lines of your tiny shorts underneath.

"Good cheering out there."

You whipped around to the sound of the voice and your eyes went wide, "Oh-! Thank you!" Your cheeks burned red, your smile wide and dumb like a cheesy love-sick schoolgirl.

He snickered, closely eyeing you up and down painfully slow, noticing the way you had your tits pressed together, and pushed up, your skirt rolled up at the hem, falling just below where your ass started so that every time you moved people could see a great picture of it.

What an attention-seeking whore.

"Can't believe the school lets you wear those uniforms," he said slyly, taking a sip of his beer, keeping his eyes on you over the rim of the bottle to watch the way you squirmed under his gaze.

You laughed nervously, embarrassment flushing bright in your face, "Yeah, they're pretty short. Hard to keep everything covered when you're flipping through the air."

"Tch, I bet." He moved closer, hand tightening around the beer bottle, and eyes tracing lazily around your figure. You couldn't help but notice his deep brown eyes, his structured face, and his arrogant charming wick. You of course knew who he was, everyone did. You had only seen him a distance away, that's how you kept yourself from him. He was bad news, a player, and you knew if you got close then you'd instantly be wrapped right into him like a trap door.

He loomed over you, his brood stance intimidating with his gaze peering down like you were a piece of fresh meat to be devoured. A predator stalking his prey.

"You got a boyfriend, doll?"

Cheekily you smiled and shook your head like some dumb stuck puppy, looking up at him through thick lashes. The heat between your legs burned and you could feel your panties stick to your slick folds. You rubbed your thighs together, biting your lip trying not to ask him to take you right there on the kitchen counter.

He smiled widely and wicked giving a little hum at the base of his throat, as he had just landed right on home base. His dick grew tight in his pants, looking down at your lustful stare like a hungry bunny.

Your eyes drifted down to his growing erection, and his to your thighs pressed tight together, and together you both swept into the crowd on the search for an empty unoccupied room.

You and Dallas found an empty room in the back of the house along a long hallway. Some guest bedroom that hadn't been found, yet by other horny teenagers.

The door lock clicked shut and clothes came peeling off like a firework, wasting no time at all. Dallas climbed on top of you as you lay on your back, skirt and undershorts shoved halfway down your thighs. Shirt and bra lying strewn across the floor along with Dallas's jacket and white t-shirt.

He kissed your neck, hungrily. Going from your lips, to your jaw, and back up to that sweet spot behind your ear that made you let out a sharp moan.

He smirked against your soft dewy skin, smelling of the crisp fall air and Budweiser beer. His body on top of yours, skin to skin you inhaled his scent, leather, cigarettes, and a deep woody cologne that went straight to the coil in your stomach.

You had your occasional hookups and flings with guys before, mostly socs and jocks, but Dallas was unlike anything else. Maybe that's what attracted you to him, the bad boy persona, the grease, the rebellion, the leather, and switchblades; specifically that dark and dangerous look in his eyes. God no wonder he had a new girl every week, he was practically making your knees buckle from just talking to you in the kitchen.

He pulled your soaked panties down, letting them dangle off your foot as he pushed your legs wide open to take a look at the sight down below.

The most arrogant and shit-eating smirk spread across his face, and he hummed, pleased with what he saw like dinner had just been served right up on his plate.

He ran two thick fingers down your slick slit, "God you're fucking soaked," he laughed a loud humiliating, and demeaning laugh at how easily wet you were just by him.

"You must've really wanted it, didn't you?" You shivered at his touch, letting out a pathetic little whine when he pressed his thumb against your clit.

He continued pressing harder against your slit, until instinctively you bucked your hips up. Your body greedily and eagerly wanted more.

"You're a greedy little whore aren't ya?" He firmly grabbed your face, grinning down at you with a full mouth of teeth smiling back at you.

You smiled and batted your eyelashes loving the way he talked to you like you really were nothing more than a whore. He then plunged two fingers into your seeping wet hole, making your face twist and turn.

"Mm, yeah you...so fuckin' tight too. None of those big football jocks fuck you good enough to stretch out this pretty pussy?"

He pumped his fingers in and out soaking with fingers with your slick, pressing his thumb hard against your clit making you squirm, "Ngh- n-no..."

"No?"

You shook your head, a little pout forming at your lips, remembering all the different guys you had let in and barely satisfy you. Dallas chuckled at your pitiful pouty expression and plunged his tongue into your mouth. Making those sweet plump lips all glossy with saliva.

"Don't worry doll, I'll fuck you so good you won't ever remember those other guys," he removed his fingers and put them to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently and licked his fingers, lapping your tongue around the tips of his fingers tasting the salty tang of your juices. You sucked till the rim of your mouth hit his, while remaining eye contact with him through hazy eyes.

"Who knew a goodie two-shoes cheerleader could be so dirty," he licked his lips and kissed your neck, roughly leaving small bite marks and hickeys down your neck.

You continued sucking his fingers, the bare air hitting your pussy, sending small shivers up you from the neglect. You desperately clenched around the cold air, trying to grasp at any sense of pleasure. Your hips humped into the bed, grinding your ass against the sheets to get some friction and loosen that tight-tight coil in your stomach.

Dallas removes his fingers from your mouth with a pop! dragging his fingertips down your chin, and grabbing your jaw firmly, "Open your mouth."

Subsequently, you open your mouth wide, jaw stretching against his big rough hand. He spits into your mouth, making you choke on the heavy gallop of spit that goes down your throat.

"Swallow that."

He watches the movement of the small apple of your throat as you swallow his spit, his dick growing even harder from just seeing you swallow it.

His eyes danced all over your body, looking at the view underneath him. Flushed and twitching with need just for him, making his ego skyrocket into the air.

"You wanna cum on my fingers, or do you think you're ready to take it?"

Perhaps you were biting off more than you could chew, but you nodded and hummed eager for more, "I can take it."

Without another word He unbuckled his belt, sliding jeans and boxers to the floor as his cock sprang out, flushed and pink, tip leaking with pre-cum. The knot in your stomach sharply tightened, making you ache; he was big. Thick and long, and you realized that you were about to eat your words like it was breakfast.

"You ain't scared are ya?"

"No," you said affirmatively as your eyes couldn't help but trail back to his hard flushed cock, waiting to sink into you.

He didn't ease in, he pushed in hot and fast, ripping through you like it could tear you right in half. You let out a loud choked gasp, fingers clutching at the sheets underneath you, "Ah-o fuck!"

"Mm...she's fucking tight-" he hooked his hands at the back of your knees, pushing your legs back to your chest to set in full view of his dick engulfed in your slicking wet pussy.

He sank in further making your body coil together, withering and whining as your walls flutter around him. He bottoms out in you, pressed to the hilt, balls pressed to your ass,  feeling the full burn and stretch of his dick with the cramped position he had you in. It was overwhelming, hot, stuffy, and pleasure surrounded you like a hot compressed room.

"Shit-" you let out a breathless chuckle, chest fluttering at the heaviness of him pulsating inside your tight walls.

After burying himself inside he begins to move fast, and roughly. Each thrust rippled through you like a wave so powerful it sends you to pure ecstasy. You gasped trying to get in air, but each one of his thrusts deprives you of it. Pleasure floods through as the pain subsides. A big grin spread across your face, never before had anyone fucked you like this. Never had you felt pleasure like this, mind-dizzying and back-arching pleasure.

"You like that, slut?"

"Mhm!" You nodded, gripping onto his biceps and shoulders as he digs into your hips, bringing them down forcefully to meet his thrusts.

The bass of the music thumped deep in the base of the house, chatters and talk echoing through the walls along with your progressively louder moans and wet smacking sounds of skin on skin.

If it weren't for the loud music, god this whole house would be hearing the sounds of you two fucking. Your nails dig into his shoulders and back, making beautiful paintings of red and pink claw marks that later Dallas will brag about to the guys at Bucks about how fucked that a little soc cheerleader at the football game after party last weekend.

He grinded deep into your pussy, hitting that sweet spot just right, making your toes curl, and your back arch, letting out a sob of pleasure.

"That's the spot doll? He murmured low in your ear.

"Ye-yes," you let out a choked ragid groan from deep within your chest. He hit that sweet spot over and over, increasing his pace, burying himself deep and rough inside. Pulling himself out to the tip then slamming back into you, making your tits bounce up and down every time your hips meet his.

He took your knees and spread them farther apart, and pressed them snug against your chest so that he can reach in further inside your guts, "Mm...yeah that's fuckin it. Probably gonna cum soon aren't ya?"

"Uh huh-" heat was building throughout you, your head, your chest, your legs, your stomach. You could feel it everywhere, climbing up to the tip of blissful climax. Walls fluttering, clamping down on him, tasting the state of bliss right on your tongue.

But before you could he quickly pulled out, and flipped you onto your stomach, "Raise your ass."

Following his orders you raised your ass, back arched, lip caught between your teeth as he rubbed his fat tip against your swollen pussy lips.

"Fu-" he grabbed your hips, angling them to his hips, and plunged into your soaking mess with a loud quench, fluids leaking down your thighs.

Hands firmly planted on your hips he rocked you back and forth on his dick like a toy, building back that pleasure that was chasing you just a moment ago. From behind, you could feel everything more intensely; his dick stretching you wider, hitting right against your cervix like he was reaching into your stomach.

"S-shit-"

His fingers dug into your flesh, forming little red marks that'll show purple in the morning. Building back up that pleasure he slams you onto his cock over and over, sending your legs into little quivers and shivers, barely able to hold yourself up.

Suddenly, you felt a strong tug on your pigtails, your neck and back straining into an arch against the pull. He had watched from behind as those cute pigtails in your hair swung back and forth, looking so eager to be pulled, and just couldn't help himself any longer. He yanked hard on your hair, using those pigtails as handlebars while he fucked you with a threatening pace to make you cry.

"F-fu-fuc!"

That arch in your back, the protrusion of your stomach made him reach deeper inside of you, pressing little kisses to your cervix.

Little grunts he huffed under his breath, "Wanna hear you get as loud as you were cheering on that field. Wanna make this whole goddamn party hear how good I'm fuckin this pussy."

Sweet lines of sweat beaded from his forehead, alcohol in whiffs on his breath, veins bulging out from his arms with his grip tight on the base of your hair.

You cried out, moans echoing from the base of your throat as his thrusts started to become faster and sloppier, signaling he was nearing his climax, as were you.

"Mmmngh- I'm go-gonna cum," the words vibrated against your throat as you felt that tight coil in your stomach tighten and the rising heat boil over.

"Good, wanna hear you scream when you cum," His hips grind against your ass, his hands still gripping tightly around your pigtails, tugging on them hard, making your head light and dizzy. White speckles of light swarmed in the corners of your eyes, pupils blown out and tears glistening on the beds of your waterline. With trembling thighs desperately wanting to buckle, cunt greedily swallowing him whole like it can't get enough, you clamp down on him hard, making him let out a deep groan. Dick stuttering inside you, twitching like it had a heartbeat of its own.

"Fuck- gonna-cum too."

His hips never stop pounding into you, never changing pace until that sweet spot of bliss gets breached and breaks into a chaos of pleasure. You moan a loud pornographic moan as a high wave crashes over you, swallowing you whole like the deep ocean. Cum pools around the base of Dallas's cock, dripping out of you and down the back of your thighs.

He whistles, and tightens his grip on your hair, "Wha-wat a dirt-y fuc-fucking mess."

His hips stutter and twitch, pulsing a few more thrusts, one—two—three, and quickly pulls out, groaning deep and shallow as he pumps his cock with your cum, and releases all over your backside in white ropes of cum.

You lie there on the bed, boneless and glowing from the high tide of your climax with your legs twitching, and cunt throbbing. You look over your shoulder at Dallas, sweat sliding down his happy trail. His shoulders heave up and down as he takes in short fast breaths.

He looked down at you, an arrogant smile plastered on his face seeing your limp and helpless body completely dumb and fucked out.

He searched the room for a towel, finding one he cleans the cum off your ass that he painted like a canvas, and himself, tossing the towel aside; neglecting your own mess between your legs as a reminder of how good he made you feel.

You both quickly dress, putting back on your uniform, tightening your pigtails as they had come undone. Dallas slips on his jacket and shoes, buttoning his pants back up. The room reeked of sex, the bedsheets disheveled and tangled, and the cum covered towel was lying limp on the floor.

You both sneak out of the room, leaving it vacant behind you. In the dark hallway Dallas grabs your waist and hauls you to his chest, the smell of sweat and musk clinging onto him, "You gonna be cheering at the next game?" In the dark he stands as a single black silhouette, the only thing showing in the light is his metallic skull ring on his hand and teeth.

"Yeah."

He taps your chin, pining your eyes to him, "Meet me behind the bleachers when you're done cheering. Think you can remember that doll?"

You smile keenly, "I can remember that."

"Good. See ya later," He taps your ass, cupping your pussy under your skirt feeling your wet fucked out cunt completely soaking your panties. He chuckles; that chuckle drifting like a whiff of smoke as it glides down the hall.

You return to the party, regrouping with your friends like nothing had happened. Like your head wasn't fuzzy, your legs not still shaking, and your panties not coated with cum.

While the music thrummed and the drinks flowed back in, your focus wavered from the life in front of you to the thought of the upcoming game. The field. Friday night lights. Cheering on the team. Excitement, breaching before you. And Dallas back between your thighs.

TW: emotional abuse, infidelity, toxic relationship, identity loss, manipulation.

love isn't obsession.

it's feeling safe. but you always felt safe in his arms. even after he cheated on you.

you knew he did. you knew he wasn't treating you right- but you did know that you couldn't leave him.

after all, you didn't think about him sometimes. you always thought about him. he existed in every nook and corner of your life, he was always present in your mind. he invaded your thoughts like a plague.

you needed him. needed his touch, affection and attention, even if it wasn't healthy. you absolutely knew he was unfaithful. but you justified it. you asked yourself, "what am i doing wrong?" instead of, "why am i still with him?" you were blinded by adoration and affection. so you let him hurt you and treat you like an object. you stayed, in exchange for your identity. you changed everything about yourself- your hair, your face, your clothes, you did it all to match his preference. until you were unrecognizable. a shell of yourself. 

when you first looked in the mirror, you saw yourself before he happened. then you blinked, and it all changed. the deadened light in your eyes. your eyebags. you were thinner. 'who's that..?' you thought to yourself for just a split second. you saw all the proof of his possession on your neck and on your chest. the remnants of when he used you like an object just a day ago, when he objectified your body. and you let him. you let him whisper another woman's name as he stole what he wanted from you. you let him step all over you like a doormat. and when he did, you felt the bruises sink deeper than your skin. it left wounds in your heart. wounds that, maybe, you couldn't mend so simply.

you let him stake his claim on you, just because he didn't want you to leave. he thought of you as a trophy, you weren't special. you were only one of many women he was seeing. not the first. not the last.

and not his favorite.

but you stayed anyways.

love isn't obsession.

love is feeling safe.

love isn't what you feel

limerence is obsession.

limerence isn't real.

limerence isn't forever.

you were simply an afterthought.

a/n: HEY GUYS IM BACK. sorry i took sooo long lmao. i was having trouble finding time and motivation for this. this is me telling u to give me oneshot ideas please. i'd be so happy to fufill ur ideas and requests. also please comment some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM on how i can improve my writing! (how im feelin rn: )

ANYWAYSSS. i hope this one was good or maybe better than the last one, and as always i hope u liked it!!

(Pre-relationship Dallas x Reader)

Dallas is alone in his room at Buck's, and he's miserable for more than just the usual reasons today. He feels like he's running a fever, and his nose is stuffy even though it keeps running. Every part of his body aches, but especially his head.