The Outsiders Preferences Novels & Stories

she commanded wiping the blood that dripped out of her chapped lips. The boys ran in our direction. They have huge built to that of thugs with tattoos all over their arms and faces and piercings on the nose, lips, and brows. They also reeked in alcohol and they do constant sniffing and jerking like drug addicts. I could tell that they’re no students but outsiders. “Dare to touch my girl, sl*t?” The skinhead came running at me with a punch. I did a sidestep dodging his fist, so, he ended up rolling on the ground.

I cleared my throat, "I think you are one of those players in high school who use a girl every week, get her into bed and throw her out of your lives the next day. But when it comes to your sister, if you want you'll literally shove any man six feet under who so much as looks at her. And I clearly hate such men." He smirked. What was with everyone smirking nowadays? "I think that describes me perfectly, except that I don't have a sister to protect. But I'm not so bad, you know. You hurt me. Ouch." "It was intended to." "Whatever. Favourite flavour?" "Vanilla." "Movie?" "Twilight and Percy Jackson." "Ew Twilight... seriously?" "Seriously." "Who do you find hot in our school?" "Me." "You are h

"Am sorry but I love Rocco, Niklaus. You have to understand that" "Does he know you like I do? Does he know what you like? Does he know how much you love eating and how much you despise veggies? Does he know how much you love telenovelas? Does he know that you watch Stranger Things because of how big of a crush you have on Steve Harrington? Does he know how much you hate the sight of blood? Does he know you hate roses and that tiger lilies are your favorite? Does he know how much of a lightweight you are when it comes to alcohol?Does he know your favorite color or what makes you mad or what makes you sad?

Then, my gaze caught something more interesting: a list of things Icarus liked and hated. I scanned through the file, my brow furrowing as I reached the section detailing his personal preferences. Favorite color: Grey, black, navy blue, brown. No surprises there. Favorite food: Steak. Classic, straightforward—just like him. Then came the list of things he liked: Order, punctuality, classical music, tea, fine whiskey, loyalty. It was an oddly refined mix, strict yet sophisticated. And then his dislikes: Disrespect, lateness, unnecessary small talk, sweet foods...

“Have I told you that I love your scar? It makes you look fierce, like someone nobody messes with.” I chuckle. “I’ve heard of girls finding guys with scars hot, but I didn’t expect to find the opposite.” “Well, now you have,” he says softly. “I think you look freaking badass.” I smile up at him, feeling my heart swell with affection. “You’re really sweet, you know that, right?” He grimaces. “Only with you...I really don’t like people. I’m extremely anti-social and prefer to spend my days either by the lake or in my lab...not that I will ever return to my lab unless you’re fine with it.”

Pulling a narrowing look at her, I seek to correct her words and misunderstanding which was about ninety percent true. I pulled the pant through my thighs, it had my breast bouncing heavily were I uttered. “I don’t fornicate with your uncle and you should stop saying such things, someone might get the wrong idea. I’m not into older men.” In addition, I then told, just to clear the air. “I prefer fresh younger dicks, and for the record I don't do pussies.” Thought I now saw that my nudity was driving the girl to the wall. It was obvious that she was a Les, and not being judging but I did find their taste disgusting. I’m open to their gender of choice but-

Miranda said with a little sigh. “No, he doesn’t,” Lauren said. Usually she let Miranda’s statements pass by without an argument, but she couldn’t let that one go. Lauren had the poster with the cast of The Outsiders on it hanging on the back of her bedroom door, and she got a good look at Matt Dillon every morning. Tad did not look a thing like him. “He totally does!” Miranda insisted. “No way,” Lauren said. “Well, he’s going to be a junior and he has a Camaro,” Miranda said, as if this settled everything.

He countered and I frowned. “And do you know that?” I scoffed and he started laying out all my preferences, “Your favorite color is Purple with a touch of white which is also your second choice, you prefer wearing silver over gold. You like sugar but you hate to admit it and you watch horror for the thrill, you might be a helpless romantic but you are a tough businesswoman with a ruthless streak you hide so well, if can do something you either find someone who can help or you go all in” He smirked at my stunned reaction. “What... You don't know what you are saying” I whispered and tried to convince myself to forget that he just mentioned all the facts about me when I hardly knew the guy.

He smirked down at me cockily. “You like the color violet. Your favorite song at the moment is Often by The Weeknd. Your favorite show is The Vampire Diaries. You don’t have a favorite sport, but your favorite book is 50 Shades of Grey. Kinky.” He listed them, making me feel mortified at the last one. His amused expression then turned dry. “You also favor that Christian guy.” He scowled at the ground. For a moment, I thanked the Lord that he was just a character because I had no doubt that Zaliver would have killed him if he was real. Hashtag Team Grey. Sorry Zaliver.

He laughed, the sound making my insides feel a tad weird but in a way it felt nice. "I was clearly busy at the time," I began, my hand indicating my room and the apartment before us. "So there was no time to ask questions on whether anyone resided here, spirit wise that is." I gave a small grin. "Plus I didn't know what to say." "Based upon my observation you," Jem said with a light chuckle. "Cora," he said, brushing his fingers across my cheek. His touch was cool and still semi-solid. "Didn't you have any loyal friends to rely on growing up?" I shook my head to tell him no because in some way I always remained the outcast of anyone that I befriended. A loner who believed that trusting other