The outsiders imagines

Strawberry Wine

i might end up being hated for this short smut but...
                            _________

"You really ought ta' move that kettle from the stove." She cooed in your ear to not startle you. You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn't even noticed the kettle loudly whistling and Cherry sitting next to you, bumping her nylon-covered knee into yours.

It had only been a week since you had lost everything you knew; your friends, sanity, and morals. Johnny and Dally were dead. Everybody was trying to fix everything that fell apart, but it was proving hard to do, so you barely stayed home anymore. You got up and picked it up from the stove with the new potholder that she lovingly crocheted in the long hours she had been sitting there with you.

"I don't know how you do it." It slipped out of your mouth, but you had to go on with it.

"What do you mean?"

"Live like you didn't lose nothin'."

Her pink lips pursed a little as she looked down at her well-manicured hands, one finger adorned with a ring that Bob gave her. "I live that way 'cause I have to. I have a reason to live. I can't just drop it all because he died." Her milky white face twisted in grief as she thought about it. As the silence grew, tears started to silently fall from her face. You had agreed somewhat to be there for each other despite the social differences because, at that point, it didn't matter whether you were a soc or a greaser, everybody was hurting. Your arms went around her neck and pulled her into your chest, and her arms went around your waist desperately as she wept.

"I'm sorry I asked." was all you could say because you felt lousy for making her cry.

"It's not your fault," she lifted her head off of your chest and got close enough to where the tips of your noses were touching. "My heart is hurting right now, that's all."

"Mines too." It happened too fast to register. A few slow blinks and thoughts of how good it'd be to feel better after all the shit that had been felt, then the connection of your lips, fitting into the grooves of hers like perfect puzzle pieces. She moved back and wiped her mouth as quickly as they had connected, smudging her frosty pink lipstick onto her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking I-"

You didn't want to hear about how it was a mistake and it'd never happen again because you wanted it to happen a million times more, so you grabbed her face and pressed your lips to hers to shut her up.

It was a blur of kissing and crying and "We can't tell a soul" that led you up the stairwell and into her frilly room taking your blouse off while she took off hers. Skirts, panties, and bras were scattered on the floor and you were licking on her nipple, sending shivers throughout her bones and causing her breath to hitch with each cold lick.

Then her tongue trailed down your torso to between your legs where she lapped on the spot with her tongue that made you hot and flushed in the face. She was a natural like she had done it plenty of times before. She kept going until you were scratching up her headboard and moaning so loud the neighbors could hear. The kissing and sucking turned into desperate humping and groping. Her legs straddled around your waist as she rubbed into you pleasurably until the worries and grief came out of you in a mess.

The room filled with both of your desperate moans and noises of you and her pumping fingers into each other until you both caved into your orgasms and held each other in your tight nail-digging holds. She fell back on her bed and you did the same. She looked like a painting the way she was lying in all of her sweaty glory with her fiery-red hair sticking to her face and her hand up on her forehead.

"This is our lil' secret, okay?" You reminded her while drawing your knees to your chest.

"Of course."________________________________

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