The Outsiders: Preferences and Imagines

When It Storms

Darry: The piercing crack of lightning abruptly woke Darry from his sleep. He had had a hard day at work, so he had come home and taken a nap. Over the sound of the thunder, Darry heard a soft, slow tune. Music. He walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You smiled at him when he walked in, beckoning him over with a glint in your eyes. Thunder rumbled as he walked over to you, taking your hand in his and setting a hand on your waist. You laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder, swaying to the sound of the old music that played from the radio. You two danced together until the storm had passed, laughing and kissing and singing the night away.

Dally: Dally had no idea how much storms terrified you. He had heard you mention the fact you didn't like them once before, but when he walked into the bedroom he never imagined this much. You sat on the bed whimpering with tears streaming down your face. He rushed to the bed and took your hands in his, looking into your eyes. "(Y/N), look at me." It scared him more than he would like to admit to see you like this. When you didn't reply, he climbed on the bed and took you in his arms, rocking your back and forth, not sure what to do. The rumble of thunder from outside shook the entire house, and you buried your head in his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. You hated storms.

Steve: When a terrifying storm broke out near your school in Tulsa, the teachers ushered everyone into the school basement for safety precautions. It was cramped and hot in there, but you managed to find your boyfriend Steve sitting on the floor and waiting for you. "Hey, babe," he said as you sat down beside him. "Hey," you answered. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, away from the kids that were pushed up against you. "Not much room, huh?" he joked, looking around. You shook your head. This was a claustrophobic's worst nightmare. You felt Steve's lips close to your ear and his grip tightened on you. "Wanna snuggle?" He whispered. You laughed and shoved him.

Ponyboy: Ponyboy searched all over the house for you, calling your name every few seconds, but it was barely audible over the intense storm raging outside. Darry and Soda had gotten stuck at work, but Pony ran home, knowing you were there alone. "(Y/N)!" he called again. The only place he hadn't looked in the entire house was an old, empty closet. He opened the door gingerly, just in case you were in there, and peered inside. Sure enough, there you were. You sat alone on the floor in Ponyboy's oversized sweatshirt and the blanket off his bed wrapped around you. He sat down on the floor next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You instantly snuggled into him. "(Y/N)?" he asked. You looked up at him with a tired, innocent look on your face, "Yes?" He looked down at you, "Why are you in a closet?" You shrugged, "It beats the bathroom."

Sodapop: Soda knew you hated storms and freaked out when they came. When he looked out the window and noticed the dangerous gray clouds forming, he told you to lay down and sleep. You asked why, but he didn't answer and lead you to the bedroom himself. You both climbed in together and snuggled close. The first small rumbling of thunder echoed in the distance. "Is that a storm?" you asked, slightly beginning to panic. Soda ran his hands through your hair and shushed you as he tried to keep you calm. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his own eyes, hoping you would follow. You closed yours too, blocking out the sounds of the coming storm and focusing of Soda's easy breathing.

Two-Bit: You screamed and just barely missed the corner, laughing so hard it hurt as you ran away from Two-Bit. A nasty stormed blazed outside and had knocked out your power for quite some time now. Somehow in the drama, you and Two-Bit got into playing a game of chase. He chased you around and around the house until he caught you, earning a scream that soon turned into laughter. He pulled you against him as you tried to get away, but his grip was too strong. He tickled you and tickled you and tickled you and planted loud, butterfly kisses on your neck, face, shoulders until you finally wriggled free and ran away, starting the cycle all over again.

Johnny: You sat on the sofa, watching the summer storm out the window. It was something about storms that fascinated you: how something so dangerous and powerful could be so mesmerizing and beautiful. It put you in complete awe. You felt someone sink down next to you and pair of familiar arms wrap around your body. You leaned into Johnny and smiled, the booming thunder from the heavens ignored. "What are you doing?" he whispered in your ear. "Observing," you answered thoughtfully, lacing your fingers through his. "It looks like a pretty bad storm to me, " Johnny stated, studying the storm through the window. You shook your head. "It's not bad, Johnny," you whispered, "It's not bad at all."