The Outsiders Imagines

Steve: Perfect

⚠️Content Warning: ED⚠
⚠️The story itself is not about an ED, however certain behaviours written may trigger a reader who does have one.⚠️

You could hear the arguing as you walked up the steps.

They're at it again? I swear I'm gonna crack their skulls together one of these days.

Quietly opening the door, you walk in, immediately folding you arms, glaring at both of them.

"Yeah, well what the hell do you think you're doing walking all by yer lonesome insteada callin'."

Pony just looked down at his feet, cheeks turning a slight pink.

"I mean, c'mon, look at my nose!" Steve points at the blood that looks like it's starting to dry up.

"What about it? It's huge, like always," you interject.

Steve turns to you, looking utterly pissed. Ponyboy just keeps looking down at his feet, but you can see he's chuckling.

Steve shakes his head, walking into the kitchen to try and clean up his face, all the while muttering, "Fucking smartass."

"Better than being a dumbass, right," you call back.

He comes back, holding a paper towel to his nose, "Remind me again, why the hell you're my girlfriend."

You just laugh and plop down on the couch, flipping on the TV.

*Later That Day*

Everybody gathered at the boys place for dinner and dug in, after not having anything to eat the whole day, you were rather hungry.

"Seconds? Really think ya need 'em (Y/n)?" Steve chuckled.

"Excuse me?" You were flabbergasted and horrified by the insinuation.

"I'm just saying, you keep eatin' like that you ain't gonna fit into your pants no more. Hell, you're already complaining how they're too tight."

You took a deep breathe, composing yourself, and excused yourself from the table.

"Now you've done it," Pony muttered.

"Done what?"

"Gone an' upset 'er," Pony told him.

"I did not!" Steve called back.

Soda threw himself into the conversation, "You may be my best friend, but you're an idiot! You don't ever talk about a woman's weight."

Dal slapped his hand on Steve's back and chuckled, "Yeah, man, even I know that much."

While everyone was downstairs, you had went up to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. Lifting your shirt, you took in the sight of your own body. The longer you looked the more you hated what you saw. You pants looked like they were digging in, your stomach looked like it was flowing over your pants and everytime you moved your arms, they'd jiggle.

With everyone hounding him, he got up from his chair and went up to find you, looking in the bedrooms and lastly, the bathroom, where he heard the water running. He didn't see you criticizing yourself in the mirror, what he saw was the ending product. You hovering over the toilet, taking your fingers out of your mouth - emptying out the contents you had in your stomach.

It burned and made you tear up, but it felt good, like you needed to do it again - all the time no matter what or how much you ate.

Steve scratched the back of his neck, "Soda's right, I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, (y/n). I wasn't meanin' to upset you. Thought I was just joking with you."

You sighed, "I know you didn't mean it, but you know my weights a sensitive topic."

"I know..but if we're bein' honest, you started it," he laugh.

"How so?"

"With my nose," he laughed even more, but it didn't last long. "Besides my teeth, my nose is an insecurity of mine and you shoulda known that," he paused, "kinda like I shoulda known your weight was yours."

You looked down at your shoes, you knew he was right in his own way. "I know, we were both wrong," you tell him.

"Listen to me, (y/n), you ain't ever got to do anything like that if you want to look perfect. You just gotta keep bein' yourself."

You smiled, "And you don't have to have fix your nose or have better teeth to be perfect to me."

Perfect imperfections.