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infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!

WASHING MACHINE HEART

Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Word-Count: 4.8k

WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a

Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott

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“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.

Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.

His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.

It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.

Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.

“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.

Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.

“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”

“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.

One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”

You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”

“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.

Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”

The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.

“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.

“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.

“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.

“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.

Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.

“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.

You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”

Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”

“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”

“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”

Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.

“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”

Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.

“You make everyday worth living.”

You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.

“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.

“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.

“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”

You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”

The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.

“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”

“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”

You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.

But the one thing-Lewis’s love.

Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.

That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.

The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.

“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.

“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”

“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”

Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.

“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.

Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn’t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”

“Myself.”

“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”

The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.

“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.

“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.

“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”

“And what is it?”

“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”

The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.

Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.

You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.

Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.

“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.

“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.

“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”

“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”

The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.

Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”

Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.

Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.

Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.

“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.

Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”

That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.

“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.

You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.

“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”

Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”

“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”

Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.

Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”

There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.

He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.

““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.

“Why’d you stop, my dear?”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”

The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.

“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”

“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”

Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.

A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”

Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.

“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.

“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.

“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”

Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.

“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”

Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.

“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”

“She is?” You hummed.

“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”

You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.

#carrie writes #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers masterlist #lewis nixon headcanon

113 notes · View notes

ghoulciifer · 5 years ago

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Lol, aight, I'll bite. Shinsou, Bakugo and Shoto hcs for what they would do for you in animal crossing? Like, would they plant flowers for you, or help you meticulously plan your island? I kinda imagine Shoto becoming obsessed with the Stalk Market, originally to pay of all your loans but then it it becomes really fun for him... Something like that? :3c

hc: how Shinsou, Bakugou, and Todoroki play Animal Crossing with you.

tw: none

tags: fluff, animal crossing, me gushing over hitoshi and shoto

notes: hi anon, ty for taking my bait hehe i really had to think about this one and it was actually super fun to write!! idk why i’ve been in stuck on ac mode or what my obsession w thinking how hq or bnha characters would feel about it is but i’m glad you guys are feeding into that lol. as always ty for requesting, inbox is open, and ily dearly, nonnie. ❥

» out of these three i definitely think shinsou is the only one who actually owns the game and plays on his own island

» he’s a gamer boi, prove me wrong i fkn dare you

» so i think regardless if you two are hanging out with each other or not he’s always on your island or you’re always in his, switching back and forth between the two to help each other out

» i see him as an aesthetic player, he wants his island to have a certain vibe when his friends (literally just you n’ denki) come to visit or when he’s just chilling by himself, fishing with tex or smth idk

» so he’s always on the lookout for things to add, be it from nook’s cranny or design codes he stumbles upon

» he also cares about your island’s atmosphere so best believe he’s sending you shit left and right

» can’t even count how many times you’ve hopped on the game to find your mailbox full of things he sent you with a mix of cute n’ mean notes attached

» they range from “y r u so stinky >:(“

» to “i love you so fuckin much have this shaved ice maker”

» no in between

» also somehow pays off his loans WAY too fast, like where is he getting this fuckin much he spends so many bells on the two of you

» never fails to drop bags of them in front of your house before he hops off for the day

» you try to get him to take the bells back because you are an independent woman who don’t need no man jk pls love me ‘toshi

» but he just runs to the airport and shuts his switch off as soon as you start chasing him

» texts you not even 30 seconds later to say he doesn’t mind being your sugar daddy 🙄

» now I see bakugou as being someone who can’t be bothered by ac LOL

» not that he wouldn’t enjoy it bc i very much so think he would (though he’d never admit it)

» but he wouldn’t really make an effort to hop on every day, maybe doing so every once in a while to blow off some steam or kill some time

» he probably wouldn’t own his own switch either tbh so he’d be on your island as player two awe

» probably put his house way the fuck at the top of the map so no one could bother him LOL

» when you’re not on with him he’ll just do some housekeeping like picking weeds, selling overgrown flowers, watering any plants you were trying to grow, etc.

» just help out with the general upkeep of the island

» lets you do all the decorating and building because he likes your style much better than his own also can’t stick with an aesthetic to save his life

» wracks up a SHIT ton of bells from all the tree chopping, weed picking, bug catching and fishing he does (BUT DOES NOT SHARE WITH YOU)

» majority of your museums donations were from him because he just wants you to worry about making the island look nice

» he. is. a. villager. gatekeeper. WILL NOT let an ugly villager move in and if they do? he’s bonkin’ them with his net and sending them trash DAILY

» “GET THE FUCK OFF Y/N’S ISLAND YOU UGLY ASS RAT”

» you don’t mind tho because he’s uh, kinda right

» overall he’s just helping you out with the small, tedious things that come with your island. would never admit it but deep down he does it because he knows how much you enjoy putting things together to create your own cute little world

» always sends you post cards at the end of the day to tell you what he did and remind you he loves you <3

» i really had to sit and think ab this one because while i wholeheartedly agree with anon that he’d be into the stalk market, he would not understand why tf you play this game LOL

» honestly don’t even try to sit there and explain it because he’ll just stare at you like

» “?? you like being in debt to a raccoon ??”

» but i think once you convince him to give it a try he’ll KIND OF see the appeal

» especially, like anon said, the whole stalk market dynamic and how relatively easy it is to make bells

» another one who probably doesn’t own a switch so he plays on your island too, but he definitely puts his house RIGHT NEXT to yours, what a cutie

» he’s just trying to help out out the best he can. really likes putting whatever bells he makes during the day toward your loans or dropping them in your home so you can use them to relocate a building or smth

» surprisingly really into gardening ??

» when he complimented your flowers in front of resident services you told him he could have a whole lot to himself to make a garden, if he wanted to

» his face LITERALLY went 🥺 ‘n you almost cried from how sweet he looked

» so now your entire island is just covered in pretty flowers and shrubbery, a whole garden off to the side next to a waterfall and an orchard right beside it

» sometimes he’ll pick whatever flower matches your outfit the best and give it to you so you can put it on your character’s noggin’ HE IS SO CUTE

» you like to remind him how funny it is that he’s suddenly so invested in the game when he could not understand why you liked it so much

» “Well... it’s almost like I’m building another life with you, Y/N. Of course I like it now.”

» then proceeds to hold your cheeks in his hands when you become a blushing, blubbering mess from his words

#i really think shoto is the softest mf #i love him #and shinsou #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi hc #shinsou headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki hc #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki headcanons #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #hofortendou hc’s

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soaringlanddormitory · 5 years ago

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If it isn't too late, I'd like to request “i do care.” Masae/Emile and “i’m allowed to be angry.” End of the World Trio(tm)

It isn't too late !! I am sorry if this took a while, but I hope you like it regardless !! Ty for sending on an ask and ily!! Also @nightcrownsking helped me with like 4 lines jshfjej

Emile and Ichiro belong to @polar-star-dorks !!

Shigeo belongs to @polar-stars !!

Masae/Emile

They've been friends since year one, that truly explained the closeness of the two. The first year of highschool was a year that could be considered significant to both of them! For her, it was the year that she finally entered her dream school--- which she loved so dearly. For him, it was the year which he gained so many friends--- who he kept in his heart. With that alone, ot was easy to tell that this year was significant to both of them. As second year came, the closeness stayed in between them. They continued caring for one another, beliving in one another... But there was something that broke the two--- They didn't break apart, but they broke as a person--- there was something that ruined them. She couldn't smile that easily with a pained look on her face. He wasn't able to strum the strings of his guitar with glee.

They couldn't continue being themselves if the current events broke their hearts in half... and that was when the idea of Central took over majority of the school. The school had to follow the recipe as given, their uniqueness quietly leaving the school. The school had some of their precious research societies shut down. The school went through a big amount of change, and anyone who spoke against them had the chance of expulsion... But there was something more that was able to add to the pain... It was nothing but the missing pieces inside their group. People actually went to the side to accept this change... Some were their closest friends. It was absolutely painful... To see the group split into half.

A guitar in his arms, yet no music was playing...

A heart that aches, this caused no rhythm.

A guitar in his arms, yet the strings untouched...

A heart that aches, that was his saying.

A male was seen in the room, his eyes looking red, but this was most likely because of his crying. He had to take in the pain of the people closest to him ending up on the other side, when he already knew that the change that was promised by the new headmaster was something that could never be fulfilled. Equality was impossible, and he was someone who knew that realith the hard way. He did like the idea of it, but he also knew it was not possible to achieve. He thought that one of his friends from all people would know that... He thought the promises Azami made wouldn't be able to satisfy his cooking partner... He did not expect one of his closest friends would join Central without any words. He didn't know this would happen, and this was what hurt him most.

He began wiping the tears off his face as it only continously poured out--- but he tried his hardest to stop once he noticed someone opening the door... He couldn't even look at their face, in worry that they would take note of his crying face. He turned to another direction, guitar in his arms as he started strumming random tunes he could to try and show that he was okay--- but no note was coming out right. He felt a bit of relief that it wasn't his cooking partner because he might not have been able to handle the burst of emotions he'd feel since he only knew about him joining the Central side recently... "Emile?" A very familiar voice... One of the people he considered closest, and even one of his first true friends in Totsuki. "You're here..."

The feeling he had felt horrible... He was upset, and he felt as if he may have been too emotional during these times... But---

"Amiga..." He felt his words hitched under his own breath. "Mi amiga, Masae..." He repeated, saying her name as he called her his friend. She didn't look at her best either. The lack of sleep was evident with her eyebags, and how tired her eyes seemed... It didn't match the eyes that sparked in excitement on the first day he met her. "Are you okay?" He noticed how she took some steps closer to him, carefully placing her hands on his face, and even placing some of his hair away from his heas. As she expected, he didn't look at his best either, and she definitely could understand the reason behind that. "What's wrong?" He tried to hide the fact that he felt his heart throb as she did that.

--- She made sure that his feelings were valid.

"All I can say is that I'm worried about you... You feel heavy about everything that is going on right now, and that's okay." She pulled his head close, making her forehead touch his. "What you feel right now is valid, and it is okay to feel thay way... I understand, and you don't need to hide it from me! I want to help you because I care. I do care... I do care about you a lot..." She repeated herself a couple of times, but she wanted to emphasize it to make sure that he knew. "With that, I can also confirm that I'l be there for you." She felt the need to cry about the situation because of what was going on, but she wanted to make sure that she could be strong for now. Anything for her friend. "I'll be there for you, always."

Emile placed his guitar away for a bit before he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a tight hug. He didn't know how much he needed reassurance until now... And from that, everything just poured out. His tears, his mutters, the hiccups he tried to hide because of crying... He just let it all out as the girl hugged him back- as tight as he hugged her. "Thank you, mi amiga... But I hope you know I'm there for you too..." He decides to remind her that he also wanted to show her the same amount of care... Because he truly did care about her, and nothing was going to change that. She began to bury her head on his shoulder, finally breaking her own strong atmosphere.

"I know..." She began clutching him slightly, but not enough to give him pain. "I know, Emile... You've always been the kind of friend who truly cared about everyone else... And I love you for that." She allowed her vision to get blurred by her own tears, but of course she knew- it was fine to show him... Just like how he showed his tears to her. "Let's stay strong together, okay? I know we can get through this together!" She tried to stay optimistic despite what was going on, and it sort of worked... Her friend only smiled and nodded his head

"We can get through this together!"

"Mhmm! Definitely! So for now, let's do our best, okay?"

"Okay...!"

After few moments, they shared some of their thoughts together, and even cried on each other's shoulder... Even if the whole concept of Central was able to hinder some relationships, it was still nice knowing that some people would always stay by their side.

End of the World Trio

Of course this would happen again. This happened almost every day and there was no surprise. It may have been considered the norm by now because of how common it was to see these three together--- a screaming muppet, a sweet cash vampire and a a garbage delinquent. Despite sharing last names, all of their mothers were different... Knowing you have siblings from different mothers was surely... a new way to get skme friends...? Were they friends? Do the people who constantly have some bickers actually... friends? Well, no matter how people would describe them, they were a trio nonetheless.

When people looked at them, it was either they were struck in fear because of their family name being Eizan, scared of them because they know what they can do, hate them with their entire being, be indifferent to them or the least--- actually like them for who they are. It was quite a mix of reactions and feelings towards them. However, some feelings changed the moment one of them yelled. For whatever reason, people did enjoy seeing the well know muppet--- correction--- the well known Elite Ten member getting angry and see his ability to set things on fire on the spot. How this was possible? No one could pinpoint the logical reason on how this happens, but some people do find it enjoyable...

An example? It was no other than someone who was in the trio. The Godfather, the snake, the vampire, whatever you want to call him--- his name was still Shigeo Eizan.

He truly did enjoy the sight of someone setting himself on fire yet not burning up. It surely was an interesting scenario to watch. Chaotic? Yes. Amusing? Most deinitely. It was easy to rile him up and he took this to his advantage. All he needed was to bring up and insult, give it a minute and boom-! He becomes a walking torch that caused fires and entainment... and slme holes on walls. Currently, this was just about to happen. Shigeo had his arms crossed, a slight smirk on his face as he continued to look at the man who twitched in anger. "Ichiro, do you have anything else to say?" He chuckled, turning all his attention to the person he named instead of his thoughts.

"You piece of shit." Ichiro mumbled under his breath, his body still twitching in anger. "Can you fucking stop that?!" He began throwing some yells and the only thing that was stopping him from going straight up to Shigeo was Naoki... who had to be between the two. Naoki never really sided with anyone, he enjoyed watching everything burn down as he stayed on the side lines. Shigeo only grinned at his reaction and this made him even more livid. Goddamn it, that fucking grin on his face made his so pissed off. Now, Shigeo only brought up his hand and began imitating someone who wore a sock puppet to let Ichiro know he wasn't going to let this down. "STOP FUCKING COMPARING ME WITH A FUCKING FROG!"

Naoki blinked, listening to the conversation of the two as he continued to drink his coffee from the can that came from his right hand. He didn't exactly know why she randomly tossed him one, but at least it was free. "You need to calm down, Ichiro. If you burn up, you might be melting my can." He stated before smirking a bit... Okay no, he did not side with anyone, but he may have enjoyed this quite a bit. He joined in to have some fun, so what was the pain in that? Ichiro got his can of coffee and began glaring at the male who brought that up. "Are you getting angrier, already? I was being polite."

"I'M ALLOWED TO BE ANGRY!" Boom. Clap. The sound of some Can... melting as this random person lit up on fire. "POLITE?! MAKE ME LAUGH, YOU'RE NO DIFFERENT FROM THIS FUCKING BITCH!" He began pointing at Shigeo who only laughed, but it was obviously sinister and not close to a genuine laugh at all. "YOU TWO ARE JUST PIECES OF SHIT THAT HIGHLY DEPEND ON MONEY!" He began to throw some insults that could partly be reality. "AT LEAST I DON'T FUCKING NEED SOME LACKEYS, DEPENDENT FUCKERS!" He surely was pissed and he absolutely hated how this two would never understand.

"It's not that I am dependent. I only give them jobs for them to get what they want. If something..." Shigeo cleared his throat. "They're the dependent ones. In fact, they're desparate and they depend on me. They should be rather thankful that I could help them." He began smirking, showing a sense of pride in him. Sure, people may have seen him as someone who is evil... His title was Godfather, after all--- something releated to the mafia. "They owe me their loyalty, I am only giving them commands for them to repay me. Now isn't that kind of me?"

"Bullshit." Ichiro replied even before Naoki could give his side of reasoning. "That's such fucking bullshit!" The flames only got wilder and this gave a signal to Naoki to back away from what was errupting. "Repay you?! All you do is sit on your ass and do nothing to help them! You're taking advantage of them, you piece of shit!" He threw the melted can down before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're only having them because you can't do shit yourself, I want you to fucking try me. You can't fucking beat me without those stupid lackeys of yours." He rolled his eyes before facing another direction. "Tch. Whatever. I don't fucking care even if you stay this useless."

"You're no different, Kermit."

"I DID NOT ASK FOR YOUR FUCKING OPINION, YOU BITCH!"

#ask #writing #masae #naoki #other people's ocs #emile #ichiro #shigeo

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themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy · 6 years ago

Note

Idk if I sent my message in early or not but if I did, I’m the overwhelmed anon. I can’t describe how good it was to see that requests are open. Things have just been horrible. Do you think I can request an Outsiders gang x reader where she comes to the house just sobbing and it’s hard for her to speak about who or what hurt her and the boys are super comforting and a bit tense because their upset that someone made her feel like this? If this is too much I understand. Ty for everything. Ily.☁️

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Hello baby! Please remember, we’re all here for you, all 1.3k of us. We all love you so much, and you’re never alone, you always have me to turn to and I’m so glad that you did. Requests are always open, but if you’re in a similar situation, want some comfort, and requests are for some reason closed, then you by all means may send one in anyways. You guys are so important to me and I want to make sure that you’re okay :) I’m so sorry this was late, I hope it still helps

You pushed the door open, wiping your cheeks free of tears but it proved useless as more immediately rained down. The attention in the room was suddenly all on you, all conversations hushed.

Immediately, Darry was by your side, leading you into his chair. He stood over the back, leaning over and running his hand over your back, hating the way your shoulders shook underneath him.

“What’s wrong?!”

You opened your mouth, trying to speak but only coming out with incomplete words, each one interrupted by sobs. You felt someone grab your hand but your eyes were almost swollen shut, preventing you from seeing who it was running their thumb over your knuckles.

You were bombarded with questions, mostly along the lines of, “who hurt you?”, or, “who do I have to kill?”, but each one made you think more and more of the situation and you only cried harder.

All seven of them were either on the floor, draped over the chair, or standing as close as they could, even Dallas, who’s brows were furrowed and fists were clenched. There were more and more questions flying at you, and only Pony saw the way each one made your shoulders tighten a little more, made your shaking intensify, and made your eyes shut even tighter.

“Guys, guys, shut up, she’s obviously incapable of talking, let’s not overwhelm her.”

You could hear that he was directly in front of you, felt the hand that was placed on your knee move while Pony spoke and reached out, blindly grasping at it.

He squeezed your hand back, holding your small one in both of his. Through many comforting words, a little subtle, and not so subtle threatening from Dallas, you were able to see again, your eyes no longer tightly shut from all of the tears. You forced them open, saw seven faces all staring at you, different faces of concern painted on each.

They smiled slightly when you opened your eyes, the willingness to be aware of your surrounding being a sign that maybe you were okay. Your cheeks burned slightly, the constant rubbing that you had done, trying to free yourself of the tears had made them slightly raw.

You were still crying, not done yet, but they stayed near you, waiting for you to be done. Johnny stood, walking into the bathroom and coming back out with a box of tissues. You reached for it, pulling one out of the top and first wiping your cheeks, then your undereyes, then finally bringing it up and blowing your nose into it. You began pulling at the edges, balling it up as small as you could in your hands, having to do something with your hands. Two-Bit pulled your hands apart, reaching behind him and pulling the small trash can out to sit next to you. You tossed the tissue in, beginning to pick at your nails but Two stopped you again, instead pulling both of your hands into his.

Despite the constant flow of tears, you smiled, seeing how strong and wonderful of a big brother he must be to his little sisters when they’re upset.

They gave you five more minutes, the crying eventually slowed and gave way to little sniffles, those eventually stopping as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

They all watched as your eyes began to fill with tears again and shushed you, reassuring you that you could take your time, that you didn’t need to speak.

You nodded, just focusing on not crying and they all sighed, relieved that you weren’t crying anymore.

Dallas muttered something about ‘revenge’, and you caught the word ‘blade’, so you grabbed his hand as he stood, not missing the way his shoulders sunk a bit, relaxing into your touch.

He turned again, looking back at you and sighing, bending down and sitting once more on the carpet.

“You don’t even know who made me cry!”

Everyone smiled, some laughing as you finally spoke, only to admonish Dallas for his rash actions.

“Is there anyone in particular he can go lie to your face about going to beat up and then pound?”

You laughed, Steve’s summary of Dallas’ ‘you hurt my friends’ reaction being almost scarily accurate.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it right now, if you guys don’t mind… I’d rather just try and stay happy for now.”

Soda was off the floor as soon as you said happy, racing into the kitchen and emerging a few moments later with a giant plate of chocolate cake, quite clearly three or four times the slice you would normally get. He dipped his finger in the icing, dotting some on your nose and handing you the plate and a fork.

You laughed, the middle Curtis child really did have quite a one-track mind, and dipped the fork into the cake, digging out a chunk.

The cake was long-since gone, half of the boys having stolen bites here and there so that you really only got a little over half of it. You were all full, which made you tired, and the quiet hum of the tv in the background was a nice contrast to the incessant buzzing going on in your head. You rubbed your temple, laying your head back onto the edge of the couch. Two turned his head away from the tv, rolling over in your lap so that his head was now near your tummy. He wrapped an arm around your waist, smiling softly as you yawned. The boys all watched as you finally got some peace, the pressures of life ebbing away as you slipped into rest.

Taglist: @spideyyypeter @the-outsiders-fandom @book-wyrm-snacks @nevergoinoutastyle2876 @huffle-homie24601 @ilostcount-helpme @dallyvally @lostnliterature @darrybutgay @stradling_izzy_stradlin @deathofthethrones @not-jay-cosby @writing-red @snoploop @johnnycadeissocute @all-thegayships @briisasinamonroll @bonjouritsellaa @lady-of-lies @ardentmuse @blueivysuniverse @dark-night-sky99 @ilovetvshowsblog @s0cial-retard @savethehoneeybees @luna-xxxxx @bvmakk @deathofthethrones @humblemei @trying-to-live-my-life21 @broken-and-alone12 @fandomnerdsarecool

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rememberstilinski · 8 years ago

Text

even if it's fake || stiles stilinski

word count: 4793

warnings: swearing, angst

request: hi could i get a stiles imagine where he and the reader broke up then few days later reader messages him saying before he can block her she's making him say 'i love you' even though he doesn't mean it. if only i could send you the pic of where i got this idea 😭😭😭 hope u understand this TY AND ILY 💕💕

author’s note: sorry that this took so long to get written! i sort of changed it up a bit, but i hope you enjoy it. thank you to @dumbass-stilinski who gave me a few ideas, and @stilinski-jpeg who read it before it was finished. and also hay and soph for reading this after i finished it! @sincerelystiles @sarcasticallystilinski

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Life isn't easy. Life for Stiles Stilinski wasn't easy. Whether it was the stress from the supernatural, the financial struggles that him and his dad were having, or even his god damn anxiety. It was all just too hard. But Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N made everything seem worth it. That everything was going to be okay as long as he had her right by his side.

Their relationship was practically perfect. They started out as best friends from childhood, but then they slowly became something more. She looked at him like he was the stars and he looked at her like she was the sun. Stiles and Y/N adored each other, there was no doubt about that.

“If you're that tired I can take you upstairs” Stiles’ calming voice pulled Y/N from the sleep she was drifting into.

Y/N turned over in his arms, laying her head on his beating heart and the movement caused the hammock to sway slightly. This is where they spent most of their time. California was usually warm and beautiful outside so they'd just lay in the hammock that was in Y/N’s backyard. “I'm not tired. I'm just resting my eyes.”

He chuckled when a yawn escaped her mouth. “You're a liar, you know that?”

“Okay, I'm tired. I just want to lay here. Everything's perfect.” Y/N smiled in content. The warm, summer wind blew and warmed Y/N’s body. The sound of Stiles’ heart beating and the birds chirping made her happy. Even the smell of the freshly cut, green grass lingered in her nose and painted a permanent memory in her brain. “Will you just lay here with me?”

Stiles’ arm pulled her closer to his body and he hummed in agreement. His eyes fluttered closed and his long, slender fingers traced indecipherable patterns on her summer sun kissed skin. “I love you, Stiles.” Y/N whispered right before she fell into a peaceful sleep. She figured Stiles was sleeping when she said those four words. He hadn't moved or said anything in about twenty minutes, but she needed to say it even if he never heard it.

But he was on the edge of falling into a slumber when the words ran through his ears and fluttered in his heart. He didn't open his eyes, he didn't have the strength to keep them from closing at the hands of fatigue. “I love you, too.”

From the moment their parents saw their friendship appear, they knew that it wouldn't always be a friendship. Stiles and Y/N were a predictable pair. Total opposites, but somehow predictable. Before his wife passed away, Stiles’ father told her of how Stiles looked at Y/N. Even though he was only six years old, he looked at her like she was the only thing in the room. Like she was the only thing that mattered. He could completely forget about his Star Wars action figures because this girl with two pigtails had his full attention.

Y/N’s parents saw how their daughter’s face lit up like a Christmas tree when she'd talk about the clumsy boy. Everyday she would come home from school and tell her mom and dad about how Stiles let her use his crayons or how she helped him make the Fruit Loop cereal necklace they made during art. The two loved each other before they even knew what love was.

When they started developing more mature feelings in tenth grade, it didn't take long for either of them to become something more than just friends. Being Scott McCall’s best friend pulled Stiles into the supernatural. He did his absolute best to keep Y/N out of it. He did very good at keeping her out of it. That is until Lydia discovered she was a banshee. Y/N was also Allison and Lydia's best friend so then she became part of the crazy life they lived. Stiles and Y/N got through anything that was thrown at them together. The couple made it through the Nogitsune, the Benefactor, a pack of Alpha werewolves. Everything that happened only made their relationship grow stronger.

Stiles and Theo stood on the roof of the hospital. Theo had just killed Josh and Stiles saw the whole thing. Neither of the boys had said a word, but the air was tense and was just waiting to be cut when someone spoke. Thankfully, Theo was the one to do it.

“You can't tell Scott.” Theo played off the nervous act.

“Why shouldn't I tell him?” Stiles exclaimed. He had every right to tell Scott! Not telling him could cost Stiles his best friend. It could cost him everything.

Theo smirked. “Because I'm not the only one who's killed someone.”

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and grew uneasy. “I've never killed anyone. What do you even-”

Theo cut off the boy in front of him. “Donovan. I know about Donovan.”

At the mention of Donovan, Stiles noticeably tensed up. Theo knew that he had Stiles just where he wanted him. If he played his cards right, Theo would be able to tear the McCall pack apart one by one.

“H-how do you know about that?” Stiles’ voice shook.

“Doesn't matter.” The chimera shrugged. “I know that you don't want Scott to find out about what happened to Donovan. And I know, that you don't want her to find out. About any of this.” As he spoke, Theo emphasized ‘her’. Stiles would've had to have been dumb to not know who Theo was referring to.

“You stay away from her!” Stiles stepped up to Theo.

“Okay, I won't tell Scott.” Theo agreed and Stiles relaxed a bit. “On one condition. You have to break up with Y/N.”

Stiles’ stomach dropped. “What?”

Theo smiled wickedly. “Break up with Y/N. When you do, make it hurt. Tell her you don't love her anymore. That you're bored with her. Rip her heart out.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because the only thing stronger than your hatred for me is your love for that one girl.” Theo smirked and the burning hatred Stiles had for him multiplied by hundreds.

“No, please. Don't make me do this.” Stiles begged of him. “I'll do anything, just don't make me hurt her. She'd never forgive me.”

“It's either I tell Scott or you hurt Y/N. Take your pick.”

Saying that Stiles might have to make the hardest decision of his life was an understatement. Did he want to keep his best friend or the love of his life? Scott or Y/N? Could he even handle losing Y/N? The one girl he's loved since he was just a kid. He's been in love with her for years, did he really want to give that all up? The answer was no. He couldn't give up Y/N. She couldn't know that he killed Donovan, she would see him as a monster.

Stiles spoke up weakly. “I'll do it. I'll break up with… Y/N.” As the words left his mouth, he could feel his heartbreak. The imaginary string that connected Y/N and Stiles’ hearts shook and sent a pain they could both feel through their bodies.

The next day, Stiles groggily pulled himself out of bed. His mood was down in the dumps all morning. He drove himself to Y/N’s house not at all prepared to do what he had to do. When he pulled into the driveway, he turned off the ignition and looked up at her bedroom window. He couldn't see her, but remembered every time he climbed up the roof and knocked on the glass hoping she would be awake to comfort him after he had a particularly terrible nightmare.

He remembered when she would climb out of the window and sneak down to his jeep in the middle of the night so they could just be together. Stiles put his hands on the steering wheel and watched his slender fingers shake. The more her thought of what he was losing, the more he started to feel a dull ache. Every muscle in his body tightened up and his chest seemed to get heavier. He was having a panic attack. Stiles started to think of how he got through his panic attacks. He would think of Y/N and her soothing voice.

“Relax, Stiles. You're okay. It's all going to be okay. Just breathe, baby.” Her words echoed in his head and his breathing started to even out once again. He leaned his head back against the headrest and he closed his eyes, letting the warm tears sting his eyes. For a few moments, he sat in his seat and tried to collect himself. Once he put himself together the best he could, he got out of the jeep and walked up the driveway to the front door.

Instead of knocking, he just walked in like he always did. His feet took him up the stairs unwillingly and before he knew it, he was at the doorframe of Y/N’s room. He knocked on the door softly and saw Y/N turn to face him. The moment her eyes landed on him, her heartbeat started to get faster. A smile shamelessly took over her beautiful face. He didn't smile back, but instead watched her walk towards him.

“I missed you yesterday.” Y/N smiled as she stood in front of Stiles. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, their lips met and all Stiles could feel was pain. The usual spark that happened when they kissed was numbed out by the intense emotional pain his heart was suffering through. His eyes squeezed shut and he leaned his forehead against hers as he deepened the kiss.

The two pulled away and Y/N bit her bottom lip. “So, what do you want to do today? I've completed all my studying and I'm all yours for the day.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.” The tone in Stiles’ usual happy and uplifting voice was downplayed by hurt and sadness. A sudden uneasy feeling unraveled itself in her stomach. She gulped and nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit next to her at the window seat in her room.

“What's going on, Stiles?” She asked anxiously as they sat. Stiles pulled his hands from hers and wiped the clamminess on his pants. He didn't say anything, but Y/N knew it wasn't good. “Stiles, talk to me.”

A few moments passed before he spoke up. “I'm breaking up with you.” He whispered.

In that moment, Y/N’s ears began to ring. It seemed as if she heard something shatter and pieces clatter against each other. The air was sucked out of her lungs. An uncomfortable lump rose in her throats and she tried her best to push it back down. “W-what?” Y/N cleared her throat so she could hide the hurt that was coursing through her veins in that very moment. “What?”

“I'm breaking up with you.” Her eyes met his and he had a plain look on his face. His face seemed as if all the happiness and warmness in his heart disappeared. He seemed cold.

“Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, I'm so sorry, Stiles.”

“No. You don't make me happy anymore. I don't want to be with you.” Each word felt like thorns piercing her heart. Everything he was saying was a complete lie and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and tell her how he was lying.

“I don't love you.” That particular phrase completely broke them both. Stiles saw just how much he was breaking the girl in front of him. He saw that every word he said damaged her in a way no weapon possibly could. Each time she tried to breathe, her lungs rejected the need. She'd only ever heard what heartbreak was like, she never thought she'd have to feel it. Especially not with a man like Stiles who loves… loved her with everything he was. No pain could ever compare to what she was feeling right now.

Do you know what hurts the most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember how you felt before. She would try to get the feeling of happiness back, but she couldn't even remember how it felt to not be broken. How it felt to not have a throbbing heart every single second of the day. She couldn't remember how it felt to be even the slightest bit happy. What hurts the most is being so close to someone and having so many feelings for them that you can't even explain it then watching it all walk away.

Days would pass and things would remain completely changed. Stiles was broken just as much as Y/N was. He hurt the one girl that he had always loved in a way that was unforgivable. It's one thing to hurt someone physically, but the moment you hurt someone emotionally, there's going back. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of the look on her face when he told her the biggest lie, that he didn't love her. All the hurt in the world couldn't compare to what Y/N looked like.

Her cheeks were red and stained with her tears. Her normally beautifully lit eyes had been dulled by heartbreak. Uneven breaths fell from her mouth and Stiles did his best not to fall apart in front of her. This had to seem real, but it was so hard. This was the hardest decision he'd ever made.

Every aspect of his life had involved her in some way, whether it was sleeping, studying, or laying in their favorite hammock in the sun, she was with him. His bed had an uncomfortable coldness that he didn't know existed until she was gone. Stiles would dream of her and they seemed so real, when he'd touch her or when she laughed, it all felt real. He would wake up in tears when he realized he no longer had the company of his best friend. His one true love. His soulmate. Once you get a taste of what it's like to sleep in the arms of someone you love, sleeping alone is never enough.

And Y/N. It was as if she was gone. The fire that lit her personality had been blown out by four words. Everything that made Y/N herself disappeared. Her happiness, her kindness, her smile, her laugh, it all left when Stiles did. She wasn't herself. As depressing and cliché as it sounded, Stiles was all the best parts of her. He made her happy in a way that no one could, he made her want to be what she usually was, but now that he was gone, what's the point? How does one be happy when the light and happiness in their life left and took everything they had with them?

She'd grown cold, hardly left her house. Hell, she hardly left her room. Lydia, Kira, and Malia were frequent visitors, but Y/N was never happy to have company when she was in such a state. Lydia was her best friend in the whole world and Y/N would hardly talk to her. Eventually, she started going to school again. It'd been two weeks since Stiles had left Y/N broken-hearted in her room and school didn't even seem possible. The only reason her grades were still perfectly intact because her and Lydia stayed back a year.

Y/N called Lydia Tuesday morning and Lydia drove over to pick her up for school. Lydia treated her as she normally did. She would talk about shopping and boys just as she usually did because she knew that Y/N didn't want to be treated with kid gloves. It was her first day back and the moment she walked through the door, everyone stopped and looked at her. Stiles and Y/N were practically the school's power couple and when people heard the couple broke up, it shocked the whole school.

Lydia stood next to her proudly, she knew what it was like to be talked about in a negative way. Y/N took a deep breath and walked towards her locker, eyes following her every movement. Malia and Kira came to stand next to Lydia as they watched her walk down the hall. “Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't see Stiles.” Lydia mumbled and Malia and Kira nodded.

The rest of the day went on fine. Stiles had heard that his ex-girlfriend was back at school. Even though he was hurting, he continued going to school; he had to make the situation look believable. Stiles was rude and obnoxious all day. Scott had finally had enough of it.

Scott dragged him to the locker room. “Stiles, you need to calm down.”

“I'm perfectly fine.” Stiles snapped.

“No, you're not.” Scott sighed. “You've really rude today. What's going on?” Scott looked him in the eyes softly.

Stiles looked away because he knew that everything would spill out if he looked at his best friend. “Nothing. It's none of your business.”

“That's bull. You've been like this since you broke up with-”

“Don't say it.” Stiles cut his friend off.

“Since you broke up with Y/N.” He said so quietly he wasn't sure Stiles had heard. But Stiles didn't need supernatural hearing to hear what he said. The six words rang through his ears and did enough damage on his heart to last a lifetime. Stiles fell back against the wall and slid down so he was sitting on the floor. He played with his fingers, not knowing what else to say.

“I'm not going to ask what happened between you guys because it's none of my business, but I'm going to ask what happened to you today. You've been somewhat fine since everything happened.”

“Everyone in the pack hates me, Scott.” Stiles mumbled.

“No they don't. Why would you say that?”

“Because I broke her heart. I did the one thing I promised I would never do.” Stiles looked at Scott. “I hurt her, Scott.”

“Why'd you do it?” Scott queried.

Stiles gulped and tried to slow his heart down before he lied. “Because I don't love her anymore.” The words pierced Stiles’ heart as they rolled off his tongue.

Scott's eyes widened at the confession. He listened to his heart as he spoke and it was normal until he said ‘her’. That's when the slightest jump was heard, and Scott knew that what Stiles had just told him was a lie.

Another few weeks had passed and every time Y/N and Stiles’ eyes met each other in the halls, it didn't last long. Y/N would quickly break contact and turn back to whoever she was talking to, playing it off as if she didn't see him. Everyone in the pack watched the exchanges and they couldn't help but feel confused.

They'd all heard what happened by now, but how could Stiles not love Y/N anymore? They'd spent years pining after each other, Stiles spent years loving her unconditionally and he just threw that all away. It just didn't seem right.

Scott stood by Kira's locker as he talked to her about everything going on with the chimeras. They watched Y/N walk past them after she shot a small smile their way. Stiles was at his locker with his now permanent somber expression. When he looked up, he caught sight of the Y/H/C haired girl. She didn't seem him, which made Stiles kind of thankful. If she had seen him, she would've left in a hurry.

Kira and Scott watched him look at her like she was the only thing in the world. He looked at her as if she put the stars in the sky and lit up the day with her smile. To him, she did. Scott smelt the yearning and wretchedness roll off of him in waves. Kira spoke up.

“He still loves her doesn't he?” Kira leaned back against the locker and watched Stiles look at Y/N from down the hall.

“Stiles doesn't have to tell me he still loves her, I already know. He wouldn't ever stop loving her. He loved her before he knew what love was. They're good for each other.”

“Why do you think he did what he did?” She looked up at him. Scott looked to Y/N and saw the broken look on her face that she couldn't hide from him.

Scott shook his head. “I honestly don't know, Kira. I don't know.” He whispered.

Eventually Scott would find out about what caused everything. He found out about Donovan, Theo not being who he said he was. He learned the truth about Stiles breaking up with Y/N. Even though this whole situation put a strain on Scott and Stiles’ friendship, they built it back up and were as strong as ever.

Y/N learned of what happened to Donovan and how Stiles was involved. She was shocked, but her love for him didn't waver. Y/N would probably always love Stiles. He could break her heart, but she wouldn't never stop loving him. He might not have loved her anymore, but she still cared for him deeply.

What was stopping Stiles from going to Y/N and just telling her everything he said was a lie? That he really did love her and it hurt to know she wasn't his anymore? The fear of rejection. What if she hated him? She hadn't talked to him in the time of them being broken up and maybe he'd hurt her so much that she couldn't find a way to love him again.

Y/N decided that she needed to move on. She couldn't spend the rest of her life alone because she was pining after a man who didn't love her like she did him. She needed closure. One day, she drove to his house and decided to confront him.

Slowly, she made her way up the front steps and looked at the door. Y/N gulped and took a deep breath before knocking three times.

The door swung open after a few seconds to reveal the boy himself. His eyes widened when he saw her. Never had he thought that she'd be the one at his door. “Y/N… w-what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you. I need to say something.” She played with her fingers absently.

“Uh, yeah. Come on in.” He opened the door wider and she hesitated before letting her boot step over the line of the door. Stiles closed the door behind her and followed her to the living room. They both sat down on the couch. The air was thick with awkwardness before any of them spoke.

“What did you want to talk about?” Stiles mumbled.

“I still love you, Stiles.” She admitted. “I know, I know. It's pathetic of me to love someone who doesn't love me back, but I do. I'll probably always love you if we're being honest. But I need to move on. I can't spend the rest of my life pining over you. I need closure.”

Stiles watched her bottom lip quiver as she spoke, but her voice was still strong. “In order for me to do that, I need you to tell me you love me. You don't have to mean it, but I need it. Just say you love me and I'm out of your life… forever.”

“I don't want to do that.” Stiles shook his head.

Y/N began to beg. “Please. I need you to do this one thing for me. Stiles, please. You don't have to mean it. You don't have to mean the words.”

Stiles gave in and his eyes burned with tears. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

She thought the words would give her closure, but it did the complete opposite. She was still in love with him. In that moment, it was obvious that it might take a lifetime to get over Stiles Stilinski.

“Thank you, Stiles.” She whispered and stood up from the couch. She began to walk towards the front door, her pace quick. Y/N felt like she had to get out of there. If she didn't, she'd burst into tears in front of him.

“Do you really think I don't mean it?” His voice stopped her from walking another step away from him. Her feet stopped moving and she stood still, waiting for what else he had to say. “You can't really believe that I don't mean it.”

Slowly, she turned to face him. While she was turned, Stiles had stood up from his spot on the couch. “What did you just say?” Her voice broke.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much that looking at you right now hurts me. Looking at you so broken and hurt because of me hurts me, Y/N. I promised you that I'd never break your heart, that I would always, always love you. I kept only one of those promises. I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain. I'll never forgive myself for doing what I did.” Stiles took a few steps closer to her, but he wasn't close enough to grab her hand or touch her.

“Stiles, what do you mean?” She asked nervously.

“I'm trying to say that I love you. I love everything about you. Your eyes and how they sparkle when you look at me. When you try to keep your eyelids from falling shut when you're tired. I love that your smile is so infectious. When I'm around you, all I want to do is smile. That little giggle you have when we wake up in the mornings and my little bit of stubble is tickling the skin on your neck. I love the look you get when you see a dog on the street. I love that when I kiss you, you gasp before my lips can touch yours. I love everything about, Y/N. I loved you then and I love you now.”

“I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to find away to keep myself sane without you telling me you love me at all moments of the day. Or how I'm going to start waking up happy in the mornings with a cold bed because the one girl I love more that life itself is gone. I fucked up, Y/N. I get that. I get that now that I've hurt you, you won't ever look at me the same again. But that's what I have to say. Before you leave me forever, you need to know that I never stopped loving you. No matter how hard I try, I'll be unsuccessful.” By now, Stiles was standing right in front of her. Tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Wet stains left their mark and Stiles couldn't help but think even her weakest state, she looked like an angel.

“You're wrong, Stiles. You said I can't look at you the same, but you're wrong. I still look at you like you're the only thing in the room. Whenever I see you, I can't help but feel my heart beat go fast and pound against my rib cage.” Y/N grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest, right over her heart. Stiles could feel the strong beats from over her chest. She really did love him, and that made hurting her so bad even worse. “Do you feel that? Can't you feel what you do to me? How you make me feel?”

“I'm so sorry for ever hurting you.” Stiles sobbed. “And don't say it's okay, because it's not. Everything's different now and it's all my fault.”

Y/N sniffled. “Stiles, please. I have everything out on the table right now. You're giving me a million reasons to let you go, but I want to stay. Please, just let me stay.”

“I love you, Y/N and you of all people deserve a happy ending.”

“Then give that to me. The only way I'm getting that is if I'm with you.” She mumbled. Stiles nodded and softly pressed his lips against hers. Their salty tears mixed together as they shared the gesture. The unease that had been living in Stiles was replaced with calmness. The anxiety he'd had from this whole situation had disappeared in a single touch. All because of her.

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