𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 ── dylan o'brien imagines

── ❝𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞❞ | stiles stilinski

(definitely listened to feel so close by calvin harris while writing the dance part, iykyk).

...............................

  A thick breath escaped Y/N's lips as she exhaled, attempting to clear the fog from her lungs. It was insufferably hot in the loft. Where Derek usually kept the place quite cool, it was now filled with drunk, sweaty teenagers and cheap beer.

Y/N had reluctantly joined the loft party along with her pack mates. A request she would usually deny, but couldn't bring herself to say no to, as her best friend, and longtime, childhood crush, Stiles Stilinski had just been dumped and quite literally begged his best girl friend to join him in a night out.

Selfishly, of course Y/N was happy that Stiles' relationship was over. It meant more Stiles' for her, and less time sulking after overhearing sweet talk between the previous couple. Not to mention she wouldn't have to deal with dirty looks every time she was within three feet of Stiles.

She had lost Scott, Allison and Lydia within the first thirty seconds of entering the party due to Stiles immediately dragging her to the drinks. Funny — considering she couldn't even get drunk.

Stiles poured Y/N a drink first, sticking his hand out to offer the drink to her. Y/N tilted her head, giving Stiles a look to which he pursed his lips and nodded, followed by immediately bringing the cup to his own lips and downing the beer.

"Woah." Y/N chuckled, reaching up to take the empty cup from Stiles' hand.

Stiles scrunched his brows, eyeing the girl as she held the cup by her side and out of his reach. Y/N quirked a brow at the look she was receiving.

"We just got here, and you don't exactly have the best tolerance."

Stiles scoffed and reached for the cup in Y/N's hands, only for it to be jerked back further before he could reach it. Y/N raised her brows, a smirk rising to her lips as she looked at Stiles warningly. He kept eye contact with her, thinking maybe if he intimated her she'd hand the cup back over, he knew better.

Stiles huffed, "Whatever you say, Mom."

Y/N rolled her eyes, just as Stiles grabbed the cup out of her hand and began filling it up once again.

"I'm here for a reason — and that reason is to drink until I forget everything that happened in the past six months."

  Y/N kept her eyes trained on the red solo cup and Stiles downed another cup. She snickered at the uncomfortable face he made as he swallowed the last of the alcohol. Stiles slammed the cup down on the table and turned to Y/N with a satisfied grin.

  "Fine."

This time, Y/N gave in. She huffed and poured herself a shot. With ease, she downed the shot and slammed it back down on the table just as Stiles had done.

  The pair continued their conversation with a few more shots. Being a werewolf, the alcohol barely made a dent in Y/N's sobriety, but she loved the look of defeat on Stiles' face as she beat him in every, single, drinking game.

A smile never left her lips. She was so happy. So comfortable having her Stiles back, no interruptions other than the occasional, stumbling drunk that only
made the two laugh. For the first time in awhile Y/N felt truly content, whole.

She liked being the only girl in Stiles' life; the one he gave his attention to. While she'd like to claim that those feelings were wholly platonic, born from their long years of friendship and her gratefulness for him, alongside her need to protect him – she knew by the flutters in her stomach and the shortness in her breath every time she looked at him, that her romantic feelings were him were also responsible.