#Dylan O Brien Imagine

[kowbelll]

Rules on request??

Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type 🩷 and she doesn’t or does know about the pack you choose

This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!

Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!

Battle Together

Word count: 1,658

His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her.  

His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scott’s voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didn’t her dad tell him? Why wasn’t he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didn’t know all of what was actually going on.  

“Scott, wait, what are you saying?”  

“She’s here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now they’re doing brain scans.” His friend was plainly shaken up too. 

Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if- 

“I’m on my way.” 

Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop. 

Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa? 

His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.” 

Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldn’t help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. “What’s going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-” 

“Stiles.” Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.” 

“Do you really know that...?” he asked hesitantly. 

She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least. 

“Let’s just go see her for now, ok?” 

He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriend’s room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stiles’ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately. 

They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity. 

“Stiles,” she started, exhaling a deep breath, “I want you to be prepared for whatever this is.” 

His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. “Wha- what does that mean?” 

“It means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isn’t always as small as it seems...”  

The woman’s eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadn’t seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friend’s family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job – to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation.  

Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didn’t want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week. 

“Are you ready?” 

He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. “Yeah, I think so.” 

As they quietly entered, Stiles’ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him.  

“Hey, stranger.” Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her. 

“Hey,” he chuckled. “You feeling ok?” 

She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed.  

Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room.  He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldn’t result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed.  

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?” He took her hands into his. 

Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didn’t want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable.  

“I’m fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?” she said, her voice turning bashful. 

“Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got that?” His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, her face approaching his, “I got that.” 

As if he had a sixth sense for his daughter’s desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teens’ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa. 

“Dr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case it’s not a concussion.” Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have some things I need to do for work, but I’ll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?’  

The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway.  

He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. “You’re staying with her.” 

It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left.  

“Yes, sir.”  

Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree. 

Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of “real” burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle.  

Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast. 

When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stiles’ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life.  

Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news – there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her.  

He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasn’t an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times. 

There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay).  

This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond.  

[dylanking298]

The Playdate:

The O'Brien household was buzzing with excitement as eight-year-old Leo prepared for a playdate with his best friend, Dave. The boys had plans for a grand adventure in their backyard—an expedition to the “jungle” (a.k.a. the tall grass around the swing set) to find hidden treasure.

Leo's dad, Dylan, a big-hearted man with an infectious laugh, was busy in the kitchen making sandwiches. He could hear the enthusiastic giggles of the boys outside and felt a swell of pride. He loved being a dad, and he had a knack for making even the simplest moments special.

As the boys bounced in and out of the house, Leo ran to his dad, who was just finishing up with the sandwiches. “Dad, can you come out and help us find the treasure?” he asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Of course, buddy! Just let me finish these sandwiches,” Dylan replied, grinning as he set the last one down on the counter. He then asked, “Do you want me to dress up like a ship captain? You know, for authenticity?”

Leo's eyes sparkled, both excited and slightly embarrassed at the thought. “No, Dad! Just… just come out, okay?”

When Dylan finally emerged into the backyard, a big smile plastered on his face, he spotted the boys with their makeshift pirate hats made from newspaper. “Ahoy, mateys!” he boomed, striking a ridiculous pose, one hand on his hip and the other shielding his eyes from the sun. “I’ve come to join ye on your quest!”

Leo couldn't help but crack a smile, despite the slight embarrassment creeping in. Leo laughed, and together they called for Captain Dylan to follow them to the first treasure spot.

As they ventured into the “jungle,” Dylan decided to take things up a notch. He began to chant a pirate song—something he’d made up on the spot—all about the bravery of young explorers and the riches they would find. The boys giggled and played along, swaying their hips as they acted out the parts of valiant pirates.

However, while Dylan was caught up in the moment, he turned and put one arm around Leo, who was nearly bursting with excitement. “And my brave little pirate, Leo, shall lead us to glory!” he declared, lifting Leo onto his shoulders in a gleeful display of affection.

Leo's smile faltered as he felt the eyes of Dave on him. He squirmed a bit, but Dylan was oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere. “Look at my boy!” Dylan continued, holding Leo high like he was a champion. “He’s the best treasure hunter in the land!”

Leo was now a bright shade of red. While he loved his dad and appreciated the fun, he was also acutely aware that his friends were watching the whole scene unfold. The last thing he wanted was for Dave to see him as a “baby,” being paraded around like a precious little treasure itself.

“Dad! Can you put me down, please?” Leo squeaked, trying to keep his tone light as he wiggled on his dad’s shoulders. “I can walk!”

Dylan finally noticed the slight strain in his son’s voice. “Oh! Sorry, buddy!” he chuckled and gently set Leo down. “What’s wrong? I thought we were being awesome pirates together!”

Leo looked at Dave, who was trying to stifle his laughter. “It’s just… you know…” he stumbled over his words, “I mean, it’s kinda… embarrassing.”

Dylan's expression softened as he realized that his affectionate gestures weren’t quite hitting the mark with his son in front of his friend. “Oh, I get it,” he said, a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Leo. I just thought…” He paused, searching for the right words. “I thought it would be fun to show how proud I am of you. But I’ll tone it down a bit.”

Leo sighed, a bit relieved and a bit exasperated. “It’s okay, Dad. Just maybe not so much… you know… next time?”

With a nod, Dylan shot him a grin. “I promise! So, how about we find that treasure? Lead the way, Captain Leo!”

In that moment, the initial embarrassment faded, and Leo couldn’t stay mad at his dad. He knew his dad loved him and just wanted to share in his joy. Taking a deep breath, he took the reins back as captain, eyes sparkling with mischief again. “Alright! But I’m not saying the pirate song, okay?”

“Only if I can be the lookout, or I might just have to break out into song!” Dylan laughed, and they set off on their adventure once more.

As the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the boys' laughter filled the air once again. Dylan had learned something important: while affection might sometimes take a funny turn, it was all part of the messy, beautiful journey of parenting. And with that understanding, he found comfort knowing that his bond with Leo was stronger than any accidental embarrassment.

I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cogentranting]

.

[webslingingslasher]

except for spider-man (we all know she's obsessed w/ him), who would you say is trouble's celebrity crush? (only asking this bc im obsessed with timothee chalamet and i would trade anyone for him 😭, so it would be funny to imagine peter's reaction to that)

dylan o brien and i am so serious.

i imagine her showing him 'the first time' and telling peter 'i watched this four times a week when i was like, fifteen. i wanted his v card so bad, it's unfair.'

'sometimes we don't need to share all our thoughts.'

[mithliya]

wait wwhat i dont have any real ones bc lesbanse but what about fake male celeb crushes Like. Random men you chose to pretend to think of as hot for seeming straight purposds 😭😭

I think i chose:

francisco lachowski (i find him so hideous with his beard.... and I remember being grossed oht when i went to look at shirtless pictures of him as part of the act. Literally liks "yess... im suuuch a man liking girl. Not at all a lesbian..EW YCUCK! put your SHIRT bback on!!!" Im actually so confused thinking back to it. Why did i do these things)

I forgot my reason for picking him but it mightv been from searching "most attractive man. male models."

Dylan o brien because Cindy Kimberly was obsessed with him and i was obsessed with her for a short period of time (not even as much as a crush though shes very beautiful but bc i wanted to look like her because... face dysmorphia) i always thought dylan was so hilariously stupid looking but i was liek "heyy we should watch teen wolf for the totaly sexyyy dylan o brien.. 😏" to my best friend at the time

Ezra miller (I KNOW) because my friend was obsessed with ezra miller, i made my phone background him while finding him so ugly, because my friend was like hes sooo cute lets watch every movie of his. This was before the... all of it. But still deranged 😭😭 id watch edits of him from the movie where hes a school shooter and just look like 😶 🤨 while the comments are saying how hot he is!!

And finally like 3 yrs ago, "Wilbur Soot" the mcyt guy.... yeah. Guess why? Bcc a friend was obsessed wwith him 😭😭😭😭

Consistently being a little liar, woohoo🎉

okay so like. i can see why women might find him attractive. i feel completely neutral about his appearance which i guess is a good sign? i dont know… but he looks symmetrical so good for him. also when googling him a shirtless pic popped up and i had the same reaction as u 😭truly idk what the appeal is when it comes to men’s bodies. theyre lacking boobies which looks wrong and shaped weird…

absolutely horrendous. basically all his featured combined together are wrong. he reminds me of a monkey a little idk why.

i had to google “ezra miller hot” just to find a semi-decent picture of him… and still what came up was meh at best. he looks like a semi-decent looking eastern european-ish man. his nose looks wrong and his eyes are very far apart but i imagine women with his exact features would be beautiful. also his jaw is like that one guy on tiktok

and the last guy…

hes okay… i guess… but i saw pics of him not smiling and he looks very ugly in them. he looks alright when hes smiling. i hate his vibe tho…. hes suspicious

[ivycovehq]

welcome to ivy cove, aurora! we can’t wait to meet stiles stilinski. please make sure you read through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours

(Aurora ) woah! was that  STILES STILINSKI  walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from TEEN WOLF. they’re 22 and live in RADIAN HILLS but watch out because they can be SARCASTIC & STUBBORN but are actually BRAVE + LOYAL despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of JEEP HEADLIGHTS, CRIME BOARD PHOTOGRAPHS AND STRINGS, LACROSSE JERSEY, BASEBALL BATS  when imagining them. / dylan o brien , he/him

”

[fitzells]

stiles and “street-light”

it’s cheesy! it’s short! it’s off topic! it’s unedited! it was written on tumblr mobile by an idiot who should be doing her irish homework because it’s ten o’clock at night! but i love stiles and i frickin adore kenz so here it is!!!!!!

“You’re so pretty.” He hums, tucking the loose hair behind your ears and cupping your jaw in his calloused hands.

Your cheeks are burning, and your gleaming eyes avert his lovesick gaze as he beams at you. Beneath the flickering orange hue of the street lights, he glows. Truly. So much so that it irritates you a little bit.

Besotted. Enamoured. Infatuated. Beguiled. There’s not a single word in the English language that could convey what you felt for him. So, despite your better judgement, your eyes lock with his twinkling ones, and you grin. Bright and lovestruck.

His warm hands caress the sides of your neck, smoothing up and down the flesh slowly; making you want to melt into one of the tiny puddles littering the cement beneath you. You breathe, unsteady and unsure; and then you say it. “I love you. A lot. So much.”

It’s his turn to smile, and it’s elated and cheery; you want to say it again, you’ll say it at the start of every sentence as long as he keeps looking at you like this.

“She loves me. You love me.”

You pout petulantly, a groan of pure humiliation and displeasure tumbling past your lips. “Forget it. I take it back.”

“No way! You can’t take it back. You’ve told me now, it’s a done deal.” His arm wraps around your shoulders as he walks you back to his jeep, and you curl into his flannel clad torso; linking your fingers through the hand dangling from your shoulder.

For once, it’s quiet. It’s calm. There’s no supernatural creatures trying to murder you (that you know of), no cold cases to crack or trigonometry homework to do. For once, you can breathe. He presses a kiss to your temple, pulling away to open his car door. This takes him a little while, Roscoe isn’t known for being easy to manage. Once the car door is wedged open open and you’re both inside, he speeds off.

You check the time. 10:14. You told your mum you’d be home by eleven. You have time.

“Hey, baby?”

You hum serenely, you love when he calls you that.

“I love you more.”

[fluffyhairedkian]

Let Me Know x

Hii yall I was wondering if I started writing imagines on here, would you guys be interested in reading them? I’ll put up a format for how to submit requests and I’ll write for whoever you want me to write for and stuff.

I’ll usually probably write about Neymar Jr, Mason Mount, Paulo Dybala, Tom Holland, Dylan O’ Brien and One Direction (solo) but I could also write about the people I get requests for.

If I start this, would you guys be interested? Let me know :) x

[forteafy]

♡ Ship for @prasygold & Stiles Stinlinski ♡

♡ How you met...

It all began when you came to Beacon Hills High School for what was meant to be a brief time. Your mother had been sent to the Police Department to cover for a missing Deputy, and of course you came along with her. The morning in question had been when you walked into the hallway of the school, shy and scribbling in one of your notebooks. Stiles had been standing a few meters down, and had looked up in a passing moment when he caught sight of you. And just like that, cupid came seeping through his heart, and the kid had never looked back.

♡ First Kiss...

It was...unexpected to say the least. He had been literally slumped over a desk the moment you had walked into school, causing a smile on your face. Over the past few weeks, you and him had grown closer, sitting together in lessons, Stiles giving you a lift to go and meet your mother and his dad, even to the time where he had grabbed your hand once seeing Scott storm up to him. You had arrived in front of the freckled boy, a coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other. After a light cough from you, and a overreacting gasp from him, he had lept up and pressed his lips to yours, catching you completely and utterly off guard, before taking the drink and pastry out your hand.

Safe to say, you were both left pretty gobsmacked...

♡PDA...

Oh man, Stiles and PDA go hand in hand. All he wants is to show the world that you are his. That he can get someone as good as can Scott or Derek. No. Better. Therefore, be prepared for constant hand holding, cuddles, even as much as the time he picked you up and carried you to class, simply because you said you were ‘a little tired.’

♡Nicknames...

His to you: Angel. Because he loves to drag it out, and refers to the day you walked through the corridor as ‘His guardian Angel, coming to save him.’

You to him: Honey. He’s sweet, and the first time you called him that, he bubbled all over. He made you say it about 200 times that afternoon.

♡How much he loves you...

Like nothing else. There’s not enough Wolves or Dread Doctor’s can keep him away from you. He loves you with the same strength that Noah loved Claudia, but he wants you to stay by his side. Always. 

[kowbelll]

Heyy, I saw you were looking for requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write Stiles Stilinksi asking reader on a date? What is your interpretation of his approach? What would the pining stage look like? Would he trip over his words? Is he still his usual cocky self? Would he be straightforward? Hopefully this gave you some inspiration and don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t feel like it <3

I love this so much and it actually inspired me to write a New Year themed imagine, so thank you! Sorry it took so long to respond, but the holidays are a hectic time for everyone. I hope you like it and Happy New Year! 💜

A Date Before Midnight 🎉

Word count: 2,001

Stiles woke up on New Year’s Eve with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Everyone around him, all of his friends, even his father – they were all ecstatic about the fresh start and the chance to improve themselves again, as if all of those unrealistic goals weren’t going to disintegrate within the first few weeks, just like every other year. It was a waste of hope. But that’s not why Stiles was feeling so discouraged with himself.

That day was his last chance to achieve the goal he made 364 days ago: ask her out. One of his closest friends, favorite people, and biggest inspirations was the girl he met when he was a wee tot and had the privilege of growing up with. She always knew how to make him smile and she always let him go on lengthy rants, no matter how ridiculous they were. She listened and talked back, and made him feel normal and safe. This girl was everything he needed when he was lacking something. Somehow, she figured it out and did her best, resulting in a very happy and fulfilled Stiles.

He didn’t realize how truly drawn to her he was until last December when he saw the purity and kindness in her eyes as she handed him the thoughtful, personal Christmas present she made just for him. Plus, watching her go through and finish puberty was an excellent, yet sometimes painful, bonus (wink wink).

Every single day began with determination and ended with despair and frustration. He was so good at talking, it was one of his many talents, and he used it to give himself the advantage in all settings. So, he couldn’t understand why the words “Will you go out with me?” refused to make an appearance while he conversed with her. They constantly raced through his head, but shoving them out of his mouth was like forcing a mule to bake cookies.

Maybe it was fear, or doubt, possibly a dash of incredulity. Or maybe all of the above. Stiles had no clue because his desire to just say the damn words was eating him alive. His tongue was burning, but instead of putting out the flames, he subconsciously diverted his attention by bringing up some other lame conversation topic. He wasn’t sure if he had control of his own brain at that point due to how incredibly long this was taking him.

He decided to do it at the pack’s celebration at Scott’s house. He would pull her aside at some point and casually let it slip out, and it would all be fine. Right? The party was starting at nine, giving him two hours and fifty-nine minutes to figure it out. That’s plenty of time. Right? Right...?

Stiles was frantic and pacing around his room. He didn’t intend to put it off this long, he honestly and wholeheartedly wanted to achieve his goal before the year ended, but the stakes were getting higher and more intimidating. Plus, getting rejected would be a horrible way to start a new year. He had enough bad luck, he couldn’t handle any more.

“Fuck...” he groaned under his breath, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Do I need to pull out the swear jar from when you were ten?”

Stiles nearly broke his neck while whipping his head to look at the man standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Dad? What- I mean, uh, no. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing your sheriff duties and arresting middle-aged drunk uncles?”

“I’m leaving for the station in a few hours, it’s only noon.” Noah wasn’t too excited to lead to night shift, especially on New Year’s Eve, and Stiles’ lips made a thin line when he realized that most people weren’t drunk yet. “Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not tense!” he spit back, a little too quickly, earning him raised eyebrows from his father. Stiles relaxed his shoulders as he attempted to make a smooth recovery. “I’m just mentally preparing for all of the self-improvement I’m going to be doing tomorrow.”

The sheriff remained unamused and disbelieving. “Like what?”

“Like... jazzercise?” Stiles winced as soon as he said such an absurd fib, knowing well that it wouldn’t get him out of his interrogation.

“Really? You too?”

The boy’s jaw dropped. There was no way... “Wait, what?”

Smirking, just like his son had done countless times, and turning to walk down the hall, he said, “I better not have to arrest you too tonight.”

Stiles let out a breath of relief and called out after him. “I’ll be on my best behavior! Don’t you worry, Pops!”

With clammy hands, he drove to Scott’s house, already losing time because he was running late. He may have cut himself while attempting to shave the peach fuzz on his chin, and there was a lot of blood. Embarrassing for him, but his intentions to look his best for the biggest night of his life thus far were undoubtedly sweet.

Parking against the curb across the street, he recognized the other cars around him, signifying that he was the last to arrive. The clock was ticking way too fast. He didn’t want to believe that it was already 9:38, but he sort of had to. He had shit to do.

He took a long swig of water from the plastic bottle that had been festering in the cupholder for who knows how long, took a deep breath, and swung his door open. Marching up to the front door, he tried to shake the anxiety out through his hands and focused on taking more deep breaths, but suddenly he was sweating all over and his mouth was dry yet again. These side effects made him shake his head and roll his eyes at himself. He’d known this girl forever, the worst she could say was no. Or laugh in his face...

He slapped his own cheek and whispered harshly, “Get it together, Stiles. Be a man. It’s just a few little words. You’ve had all year to do this. You’ve done enough preparing. Be a man.”

At last, he stepped into his best friend’s home and saw everyone seated around the coffee table, playing Uno with two decks: Aiden, Isaac, Allison, and Ethan were relaxed on the couch as Scott, Kira, Malia, Mason, Liam, and Stiles’ favorite gal sat on pillows and cushions on the floor. Well, except for Malia – she “didn’t care about a hard floor” and “grew up on them.”

“Stiles! You’re here!” That pretty voice and smile caught his attention. “Here, come sit with me, you can just be on my ‘team’ until this game is over,” she said, scooting over and making room for him on her cushion.

His heart just about melted and he quickly sat down next to her, against her, which sent tingles through his body.

The game continued, but all he wanted to do was demand that everyone leave them alone so he could spill his guts and beg for a date. He was beginning to feel a bit hot and queasy, and he repeatedly checked the time as the minutes slowly passed. However, he watched her closely during her turns and quietly whispered strategy advice over her shoulder to aid her in disposing of her cards. Hearing her whisper back, raving about how smart he was made him blush furiously.

“Hey, what happened to your chin?” she asked while Allison played her turn.

Stiles looked at her with confusion at first. “My what?” Realization washed over him as his fingertips brushed over the tender mark left behind from his earlier incident. The fact that she noticed made his face turn another shade darker. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Basically a paper cut.”

“Basically?”

“Kind of. Almost.”

“Almost a paper cut? How does paper almost cut you and still leave a mark?” she said, a smile growing on her face.

Chuckling, he gave in. “Alright, fine. I cut myself while shaving. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. The razor just came at me out of nowhere!”

Hearing her laugh at his dumb joke made him grin like a doofus (a cute doofus).

“Wow, I didn’t know you even knew how to shave. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Hey! I’ve been shaving for years, you just haven’t noticed because I’m so skilled at it. I’m as precise as a ninja.”

“Clearly not, since you cut yourself,” she pointed out, smirking.

“I told you; it was the razor!”

After a couple more games of Uno, the group diverted into other activities: chatting, dancing, snacking, arm wrestling, etc. But every time Stiles could pull away and hunt her down, someone would drag her into another conversation or game of Connect 4. Usually, he wouldn’t mind yanking a person wherever he wanted, however, that look of joy she wore made it impossible for his hands to reach out.

Additionally, a stronger feeling of guilt was creeping over him. The fear of somehow violating her and making her feel uncomfortable with their friendship formed a blackhole in his stomach. He couldn’t bear being responsible for flipping her whole world upside down. What if she didn’t want to see him again? Or what if she tells everyone that he’s a creep? What if he has to disappear forever?

Of course, these scenarios he was conjuring were completely unrealistic; he knew that because he knew her. He knew almost everything there was to know about her. He studied her soul with interest and delight because she was so enticing and alluring to him. She was like a beautiful mystical creature who blessed him with companionship. Though, as the time inched closer to his deadline, he seemed to lose his sense of reality.

Before he knew it, the pack was gathering around the TV, watching the countdown on the local News, and finding a couch, chair, or fireplace to jump off of and into the New Year. Stiles’ heart was thumping and he felt faint. He was pulled up onto the couch by the hood of his jacket, and he looked over to see that pretty smile again, but he only frowned as people began counting down.

“10, 9...”

“Stiles?”

With a shaky jaw, he bit his lip.

“...8, 7...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...6, 5, 4...”

“Stiles-”

“...3, 2...”

“Will you go out with me?” he finally blurted, feeling hot tingles rush through him in waves.

Her jaw went slack.

“...1! Happy New Year!”

Everyone jumped down and cheered in celebration, blissfully unaware of the thick air surrounding the pair who awkwardly stepped down from the couch.

Stiles stared at her blank face before deciding to let his stupid hopes and dreams die in that living room. He didn’t want to keep looking into those eyes with the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would soon be coming his way.

She glanced around and saw a couple kisses being shared, but when her gaze returned to Stiles, he was turning away, preparing to walk out of there as quickly as possible. Letting her instincts take over, she grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and placed a sweet but firm kiss on his cheek.

The boy’s eyes widened and his face and neck turned bright red, once again.

“Yes, I will go out with you.” She beamed at him with rosy cheeks.

Stiles kept staring at her with wide eyes until he cleared his throat and somewhat pulled himself together. “Oh, yeah, cool. That’s, um, really cool.”

“Cool? Stiles, I’ve been waiting forever for you to ask me out, and now that you have, all you’re saying is ‘cool’?”

His eyebrows shot up, realizing how insanely inappropriate his reaction was. “Oh my god, I am such an idiot, that is not what I meant at all, I swear-” He stopped suddenly. “Wait. You’ve been waiting for me to ask you out forever?”

She simply smiled at him again. “Happy New Year, Stiles.”

[dylanking298]

Scary movie:

It was a scary movie night with Dylan my boyfriend and he had dared me to watch some of the most scariest movies he could think of. "So yn....Pennywise or Nightmare on elm street?" Dylan said while holding out the two dvds.

I gave him a cocky smirk. "You pick." Dylan smirked and chose Pennywise. I gulped because that was the movie that everyone said was extremely scary. And what made it worse was my striking fear of clowns. I always hated them ever since I was a kid, but I couldn't tell Dylan that or I'll never hear the end of it.

Dylan made popcorn and brought out a 6 pack of Pepsi and nachos. It looked delicious but I probably wouldn't be able to eat any of it during the movie. We relaxed on my couch with the lights off as the movie started. I took a deep breath and reassured myself that it wouldn't be that bad.

But I was wrong.

Jump scares left and right that made us both flinch and I was curled up in a ball shaking because of one scene in the movie. That deranged clown ate a kid!

I looked to see of Dylan was disturbed by it yet, but he was taking this as far as I was. Except I was losing miserably. "Hey Y/N? You okay babe?" I put on a brave smile. "Of course! How are you enjoying the movie?"

Dylan looked down at me smirking like he had caught onto my game. "How are you enjoying the movie?" I shook my head finally caving into the my fears. "I'm afraid of clowns."

Dylan paused the movie and looked on concerned. My face was pale, my palms were sweaty and my heart was practically beating out of my chest. "I'll stop it baby." Dylan said canceling the movie. "You okay?"

"Yeah.." My voice trailed trying to sound strong. Dylan came over and kissed my cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't know..."

"it's my fault too. I should have said something before hand." Dylan hugged me for a long time before pulling away. "Wanna watch something else to get your mind off things?" I nodded. "That would be nice." Dylan turned on another movie. 'The devil wears Prada.'

"I heard it's really good." Dylan said while making everything comfy for you. "How about I order us a pizza and for dinner? I'm starving."

I smiled. "I love that. Can you make mine with extra cheese on my side?"

"Of course baby. Of course."

[sweet-pea-channie]

Wind in my hair - Dylan O’Brien Series (Part 8)

Part 8: True, hard reality

Author: @herscrunchiehairtie

Summary: Y/N and Dylan are enjoying the evening at his place and while they sit in his backyard Dylan reveals his feeling for her. 

Warnings: K-I-S-S-I-N-G, some fluff, some more fluff

Want to be tagged? Send me a message :)

Part 1 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Series Overview - Masterlist

12th June 2018

Weeks passed by, you had received another chemo just a few days ago. You were feeling better than ever. Your doctors were surprised that the therapy was working just fine for you. Seemed like you were the perfect guinea pig.

Dylan had to leave three days after you took him in, work was calling. You were doing better and could stay on your own. He was the perfect nurse, he cooked dinner for both of you every day, went grocery shopping and he even finished your laundry that Andrew put in the washing machine. You wanted to help him, but he wouldn’t let you.

You watched your favorite series most of the time. Even though it was quite warm outside, you stayed in, sharing a blanket together on your couch. With his arms wrapped around you, you had your back leaned against him, not realizing that he was watching you the whole time instead of the TV.

He couldn’t get the kiss out of his head, the first kiss that you shared and it wasn’t the only one you shared after that. You shared a few kisses here and there but it was never developing into something more, no make-out sessions on your couch. Every time, you tilted your head back, looking at the gorgeous man, he placed a kiss on your forehead, your eyes closing each time.

There was this moment; Dylan was cooking dinner with music playing in the background. You sneaked your arms around his waist, intertwining your fingers in front of him. Dylan put the wooden spoon aside and turned around, your arms stills holding onto him. He grabbed your face and placed a lingering kiss on your lips, pulling away too soon for your liking. You whined and pouted your lips, asking for another kiss. Dylan smiled, shaking his head at you. He couldn’t believe that you were feeling the same.

“Give me this dance and you get another kiss,” he whispered in your ear, holding his hand out for you to take. You took it immediately and followed him to your living room. He put one hand on your lower back, the other one holding onto your hip. You put your hands on his shoulders, your body pressed against his. He was swaying to the music, from the left to the right. He never broke your eye contact; he couldn’t get enough of you.

The music changed and Dylan grabbed one of your hands, swirling you around one and then two times until you put your hands on his chest, getting on your tip toes to be on his level. His arms wrapped around your body, holding you tight. He closed his eyes, leaning in and put his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, playing the short hair on the back of his head.

Dylan had to leave before you two talked about your real feelings for each other. There was no right timing to talk about it. The only time he mentioned something was over text, saying that he wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.

You invited him over one time, but before he could arrive at your place, your grandma came barging in, so you had to eat lunch with her and Dylan. There was no time to talk about the two of you. It felt like you were not destined to be together, like everything was trying its best to keep you separated. But not today, not today.

Dylan texted you yesterday, asking if you wanted to hang out with him today. Of course, you said yes. Maybe this would be the right time.

You got ready around 1pm, heading outside to wait for Dylan. He was picking you up, as always. Even though you lived all across town in South Gate, he took his time to pick you up.

His black Audi stopped in front of your complex and you rushed down the path to get into his car. You opened the door and hopped in, kissing him on his cheek before you shut the door and put on your seat belt. Dylan smiled and waited until you were ready to go before he rushed down the streets of LA.

“So, did you finish the project you told me about or is it still going on?” you asked him to break the silence. You turned in your seat to get a better look at him. His hands were on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road.

“Yup, all done,” he replied, popping the p. “Maybe, if you’re being nice to me today, I might give you a hint.”

“Alright, I’ll try my best,” you let out a laugh. “Anything planned for today? I mean, for dinner? Are you taking me out or are we staying in and cook something on our own?”

“You want me to take you out?”

“Nah, I’m not feeling like going out today. Maybe we can cook the recipe I showed you the other day, you know the one with the broccoli rice and shrimps,” you suggested.

Dylan looked at you for a quick moment, lifting his eyebrows. “You want to eat low-carb? Really? I never thought you were that type of girl.”

“I’m not, but the picture looked so delicious,” you explained and pouted your lips, hoping that your puppy eyes were helping you. Dylan rolled his eyes. Without looking at you, he knew exactly what you were doing right now. “Don’t give me the puppy eyes! But yes, we can cook it, if you want. I’m open for everything.”

You waited for Dylan to open the front door to his house while you were leaning against the door frame, staring at the brown haired young man. He fumbled with the keys until he found the right one and unlocked the door. He held the door open for you and followed you inside, locking the door behind him after he shut it.

You got rid of your shoes immediately and you were long gone to his living room area, staring out the big windows to see the pool in front of the gorgeous view.

“You wanna drink something?” his voice snapped you back to reality. You turned your head to get a better look and smiled at him while you nodded your head. “That fancy water of yours would be so great.”

Dylan rolled his eyes and grabbed a glass for you, filling it with tab water. It was a while ago, when Dylan offered you a glass of fancy water, saying that it was so special, no normal human being could afford it. Of course, it was a joke, it was just plain old tab water. Taking the glass of water from him, he put his right arm around your lower back and tugged you closer.

“God, I love it here,” you mumbled while you were sipping on your glass. You didn’t notice that Dylan was staring down at you the whole time, admiring the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He didn’t know when or how, but he knew for sure that he was falling you hard.

“I hope you packed your bathing suit,” he said out of nowhere. You looked up to him and caught him staring down at you, his eyes were clued to yours. “It’s your lucky day, O’Brien,” you laughed and walked away from him. Putting your glass of water on the kitchen counter, you grabbed your bag and dig through it until you found your red and white bathing suit.

“Come on, let’s get dressed then.”

“Like right now?” you asked him. He nodded and told you to get ready while he made sure that it was all cozy outside. He was already in his swim trunks; he had forgone to put on jeans when he was picking you up.

When you joined him in the backyard, he was already knees deep in his pool, his arms spread wide open. You smiled and walked to the edge across from Dylan, sitting down. Slowly, you put your feet in the water until it reached your calves and then your knees. Dylan sighed and jumped head first in the water, diving his way to you. He reached the surface right in front of you and his arms found the perfect space of your thighs. You gasped when the cold water hit your thighs and you tried to push Dylan off you, but he held on your ankles until you were about to fall into the water.

You screamed and kicked with your feet until Dylan let go of your ankles. He dove under water and jumped back up, immediately, spiting a mouthful of water in your direction.

“Dylan!” you whined when the cold liquid met your stomach.

“Come on, it’s not that cold,” Dylan said and swam back to you. With your legs on either side, he rested in-between them and put his head on your left thigh, his wet hair tingled your skin.

“Well, I like it out here,” you replied and winked at him. He rolled his eyes and sneaked his arms around your hip, intertwining his fingers behind your back. It took you a while until you realized that he was slowly pulling you with him into the water and before you could react, your bum was already over the edge and your head was under water.

With your legs around Dylan’s waist, he pushed you back up and shook his hair, the droplets met your face. “You psycho,” you laughed and wiped the remaining water of your face.  

“Sweet but a psycho,” Dylan joined your laughter. You hit his shoulder and rolled your eyes, untangling your legs from his body and swam away from him where you could touch the ground. You weren’t that much shorter, but the few inches were enough for him to reach the ground where he was standing.

Time was passing by rather quickly and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen, preparing your dinner. Dylan helped you to cut the vegetables and handed you everything that you were asking for, like salt and pepper.

It felt so normal, being around each other. Dylan couldn’t take his hands off you most of the time. He tickled you, made sure to place plenty of kisses along your shoulders and back, and wrapped his arms around you to stir. You couldn’t complain, it was nice having him so close to you.

Dylan felt so free when he was spending time with you, that it scared him. He knew that he had to make you his, so he wouldn’t overthink your relationship. He had to make you his, before someone else would take you away from him. Today was the perfect day to confess his feelings, it couldn’t get better.

You took the last spoon of your rice before you placed the empty plate on the coffee table in front of you. Dylan was long done, a glass of red wine in his hand. He reached for your glass and gave it to you. Thanking him, you took a sip and closed your eyes for a while before you reopened them and admired the sunset in front of you.

“Come here,” Dylan said motioned for you to sit closer next to him. With your glass still in your hand, you scooted over and leaned yourself against his side. Dylan placed his left arm around your shoulders and tugged you closer.

It was silent, no awkward silence. You were both enjoying the colors of orange and purple that were mixing to a beautiful piece of art up in the sky. No words were needed. That’s what you thought. The soft music in the background that was playing from Dylan’s speakers inside were enough.

But Dylan couldn’t concentrate, all he could think about was you, the perfect girl he held in his arms. He knew that time was running, so he took his chance and said, “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your head spun around, your eyes wide opened with your lips slightly parted. The glass of red wine found its way to the table, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You couldn’t process what he just said, a mixture of shock and relief flowed through your veins. “I’m sorry, what? I think I heard you saying that-“

“I’m falling in love with you, yeah.”

“Dylan, I-“

“Please, just hear me out okay?” he asked and waited for you to nod, before he grabbed your feet and pulled your legs over his lap. “I know that you are scared of commitment and relationships and everything that comes with it. But you don’t have to. I know you’re scared that you might not make it to your 30’s, that you’ll leave sooner than you think, but I don’t care. All I care about is you. I want to make you happy, I want to make you laugh, see the perfect smile of yours, the way your eyes shine when I say something stupid again. I can’t stop thinking about the kisses we shared and I’m scared that every time we kiss, it might be the last one because I just can’t man up and tell you how I feel and sooner or later you might find someone else who can be a better man than me. I just… I don’t want to be without you anymore. And we can take things slow, there’s no need to rush. I just want to put a damn label on it before someone else does.”

“There is no one else,” you mumbled and grabbed his face, pressing your lips to his. Dylan kissed you back immediately, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you on his lap and deepened the kiss while you played with the soft ends of his hair at the back of his neck. His tongue brushed your upper lip; a soft moan escaped your mouth and Dylan took the chance to slip his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth. You couldn’t process what was happening, you were too deep in the kiss until Dylan put his hands on your lower back, swooping you on your back. He hovered over you, his hands on either side of your face to hold him up so he wouldn’t crush you.

Eventually, you had to pull away, the need of oxygen getting too much. You were panting with your eyes still closed. Dylan had to catch his breath as well; it was quite a while ago when he kissed someone like that. You finally opened your eyes and met his brown orbs, a smile that was so big, it reached from his left to his right ear. “So is this a yes?”

“Yeah, let’s go for it.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Noise Complaint

Stiles Stilinski Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Navigation

Summary: Keeping multiple hormone enraged students in a motel for a night wasn’t going to end well for anyone, except them

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader, mentioned Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Warnings: 18+ minors dni if you do then I take no responsibility, smut, strip tease, protected sex, vaginal penetration, and a noise complaint

The motel room was exactly what you had expected, shabby rather than chic, and despite the low expectations that you had initially had, you couldn't help but pout; a part of you was more lenient to sleep on the school bus instead of these already combusted mattresses that were dressed in the most hideous sheets that you had ever laid your eyes on. But you supposed that this was the punishment that you had earned yourself by tagging along with Lydia and Allison; it hadn't quite been a fool proof plan, more so considering that it hadn't taken Stiles long to realise that you three were in the vehicle behind them. The room that you had been given the key to was a single, and it haunted and disgusted you as he said that you were to be sleeping in this horror setting alone; no Stiles he had meant.

It wasn't justified fairness, you'd even argue that it commended against your human rights. But old Bobby enjoyed to make everyone suffer, and that was the type of pain that you were undergoing as you dealt with the separation that - hold that thought, a notification sprang from the speaker of your phone, and as you read the iMessage that bombarded your lock screen, excitement coursed through your veins. Open up, it said, and giddily you hurried to the door, instantly obliging to what the message had said. On the other side stood Stiles who didn't waste a moment before he pushed the both of you back into the room, being quick to ensure that nobody saw the both of you blatantly disobeying the rules. To be honest you didn't know what Finstock had expected, bringing well over a handful of hormonal teenagers to stay at a dingy motel overnight couldn't possibly respect the restrictions of chastity; nobody was going to listen, including Stiles and yourself.

"Let me guess, you couldn't sleep?" You crawled onto the bed after your boyfriend who had gone up the length of the mattress to rest his head upon the flat pillows that had been provided, weaving yourself beneath his arm and dancing your fingers across his chest. "You're still worried about Scott, aren't you?" The scratch that the alpha had left on him was nasty, and went further than surface deep. His worry towards his best friend was understandable, you were concerned too. Stiles hummed in reply, combing his long fingers through your hair, his body shifting as he found it quire difficult to go on considering everything that was going on.

"He's gone to see Allison now." Stiles revealed, it was no doubt that if Scott had remained in their room that he'd have stayed too. They weren't just best friends, they were brothers and that bond would always be his first priority, you had never met anybody as loyal as Stiles Stilinski. "But I could use a distraction from all the sacrifices and alphas and whatever else is going to happen." He rambled, his hands tossing about a little as he spoke, and you found the action rather adorable, he was always very expressive as he spoke, in fact the two of you had met first day of freshman year by him whipping you around the face with his flying hands, and it had been rather hard to forget him since you had a black eye for the rest of the week.

"I've got the perfect thing in mind." You informed him, coercing him to grumble as you got up, searching for your phone and scrolling on it until you came across the playlist that you had created for a moment like this. 'Hands to myself' began to play, perking Stiles up as he watched you stand by the end of the bed, dragging your own hands up your body, prompting him to lick his lips that were feeling rather dry. He sat upright as you slowly peeled the shirt up to reveal your bare skin until you were dressed in nothing more than your bra and shorts and walking closer to Stiles. The music was quite loud, drowning out any sounds of Stiles' laboured breaths that he was trying to control, it made you feel strong seeing the affect that you had upon him, and only served to encourage you more to act more deviously. Your thumbs tucked into the elastic band of your shorts, toying with them, the sight alone had the poor yet lucky boy before you feel lightheaded.

The first time that you had actually performed a strip tease for Stiles, he had literally fainted; looking back on that time was quite funny, more so since you had been sworn to secrecy by the victim himself when he groggily came back to consciousness. But it had become the faintest memory in Stiles' head as your shorts piled around your feet, he couldn't help but lean forwards, his eyes delicately tracing the sultry edges of your underwear. Drool began to seep out from the corner of his mouth whence you played with the frills that decorated your panties, hips still swaying as your hand that was not dancing along the front of your left thigh was swimming in your hair as your tongue deliciously ran across your teeth.

"You're so hot." Stiles murmured, his leg began to jitter against the ground as his body endured the rush of desire. "Come here baby, need you." Sweetly you tip toed over to him and placed your hands onto his shoulders, taking a seat of placement upon his aroused lap, feeling his hard cock through the layers of material which separated each of the parts of your bodies that hungered to unite in a rouse of passion. The music faded away from your sense whilst his eyes ravenously scaled up your bare torso, his hands were starved as they refused to miss an opportunity to touch any skin on your body that they possibly could - no doubt he was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

You didn't mind in the slightest as you fiddled with the straps on your loose shoulders, reaching behind you Stiles disconnected the clasps on the back of your bra, to which obeyed his command by dropping the garment between your bodies, only serving to build misdemeanour tension within the room. Both of your hands ravelled in his dark locks that he had allowed to grow out not so long ago as he threw your bra to the floor, raising his large and desirable palms to cup both your breasts, becoming vastly more turned on by feeling the natural weight in his grip. Leaning down, you hungrily joined your lips in a sloppily paced kiss which remained elongated in time for a while, your bodies rutting in unison to build up pressure to which was called pleasure. Thank god for Scott for not being over Allison, otherwise this event would never have fitted the occasion!

Soon the rest of your and his clothes were scattered around the room like an image from a spot the difference game, though if it were a then it'd have definitely have been R-rated as the pair of you were completely in the nude, Stiles now atop of you and teasing his cock head upon your sweet clit. He ran his tip up and down your slit, collecting wetness, the notion alone causing you to drop your head back into the pillow supporting you as your eyes deliriously fluttered closed. But they fixated open no more than a minute later as a disastrous thought bombarded your mind, leading you to tightly grip your boyfriend’s forearms and dig your nails a little into his flesh, all to refrain him from going further for a moment. “Do you have a condom?” He blinked multiple times before springing into action.

Despite it resulting in you and him groaning simultaneously, he stir up so that he could rummage through his belongings until he found one. Once he did he wasted no more time and instead put the contraceptive method onto his length and resumed his previous position. Your legs twitched and coiled around him as he began to push into your walls, his right hand roughly grabbing the back of your thigh to bring some pain upon your body to mix with the exonerating pleasure that shuttled through it. The collaboration of your bodies was heaven with the bitterness of hell that raked through them via the bruising grip below your ass, the passion transcended into the clouds from aggressive and hungry flames, creating a breathless hue to burn beneath your flesh. Each breath that pardoned out from Stiles' panting lips scorned your skin, he was desperate for release and was feeling close, his quickening thrusts only made the endurance of your orgasm slacken as everything around you felt as though it was crashing down.

There was a storm within the room, the lightning struck above both of you in the form of a bulb with faulty wire as the thunder resonated in pounding, which you could not register as such, against the door to the motel room. The music that you had earlier put on acted as a soundtrack to the scene, and your sounds of ecstasy dwindled down into as you reached the climax to the intimate story that you had shared with Stiles. "Stilinski! Y/l/n! Open up but only if you're decent." The level of the music was still loud and therefore you hoped that the lyrics of Ariana Grande and other artists that had recently performed on your playlist had masked your moans of synchronised pleasure but you knew that that specific hope was far too good to be true.

And so you and Stiles scrambled to cover yourselves and answer the door as Finstock began to rampantly knock again. He was like a flu that you couldn't get rid of, and it was no surprise to when you eventually opened up the door it looked as though he had caught a fever. It was a blessing to his ears that the variety of sounds had ceased including those that had exhumed from your phone that was now somewhere on the floor. "The two of you are one of the reasons that I drink." Bobby defeatedly spoke, waving his finger like a madman to which it was already believable prior that he was one. You cocked your head waiting for him to scold the of you more however Stiles had already beaten him to it, silencing him with his natural wit in the moment. "In my defence I am only here because I felt lonely, nobody else is in my room." He practically dubbed Scott in the trouble, but you also knew that Stiles had the intention of having someone check up on his best friend and so he was using Bobby as the surrogate to do so.

Coach's face crinkled, this was more work than he was cut out for, and he wasn't enjoying a moment of it. At least he didn't have to worry about Greenberg as he strongly doubted that he had the moved to get into such a compromising position with any other example of the human species, he'd just be yelled at because he was annoying and an absolute kiss ass all whilst being terrible at lacrosse. "Wait, where is McCall?" He was slowly putting the pieces together... if there was another noise complaint then he'd be at fault since he was the adult, and so he rushed off in hopes of not having to succumb to responsibility. The opportunity arose to shut the door and so you took it, and Stiles dropped his head in relief as he hurriedly began to remove his jeans again. "Oh thank god." He sighed when he dropped them and you laughed when you realised that it was not his intent to continue what you were doing beforehand but instead the condom the condom that he had forgone and forgotten to remove in the rush of things.

[laheysdork]

“Part of growing up is realizing you learn to love so many people. It's about forming those relationships and finding what will last forever.”

HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY DYLAN O’BRIEN!

[statticscribbles]

Kidnap

Summary: Mitch Rapp/Reader Reader is Kidnapped and Mitch find a way to get her back

”Y/N? You awake?” You open your eyes to see Mitch hovering over you, you sit up a little but before you can there’s just red clouding your vision.

“What’s this?”

“Roses, it’s our three year anniversary so I wanted to do something special for you!”

“Mitch, that’s not for three more days!”

“Exactly, so I’m going to spoil you silly for the next three days!”

“It’s only three years, that’s not as big as the first year or the fifth one!” You try to counter but he just grins at you.

You stomach flips, you know this isn’t part of Mitch’s anniversary plan and you wonder just what’s going to happen. The fabric around your face is scratchy and you wonder if it’ll leave red marks on your face when they take it off. You don’t think about it never coming off, about Mitch never finding you.

They’re talking, voices low and unintelligible but you’re certain that’s because they’re in a different room, not because they’ve actually hurt you. The group, you assume it’s more than two people with how many different voices you can hear; are surprisingly gentle with you, you wonder if someone has explained who you are or if they just needed another hostage.

“She hangs out with him; they’re at least friends.” Your stomach sinks lower, you realize they’re trying to bait Mitch but they clearly haven’t done their research or they would have taken one of his actual friends; not his girlfriend.

Time always passes differently when it’s dark and being blindfolded is no exception. It doesn’t feel like days, maybe just a few hours before Mitch is pulling off the blind fold his hands shaking as you try to smile at him.

“I’m okay.” You assure and he narrows his eyes before practically picking you up and carrying you over to the ambulance; he rides with you the entire time, refusing to let go of your hand until one of the other agents physically pulls him away from you so the nurses can check you over.

“It wasn’t even a full day Mitch, she’s fine, they didn’t get the chance to do anything. Just go home and spend time with her.”

“Y/N you okay babe?” You’re pretty sure Mitch has asked that same question for the past hour every three minutes.

“I’m alright, better that you’re here.” You press your face into his shoulder and he keeps his arms tight around you.

“Sorry for ruining whatever your anniversary plans were.” You mumble and he frowns a little, nudging your face so you look him in the eyes.

“All I want is to spend time with you, no matter what we get to do, I just want to spend it with you.”

You're still nervous about leaving the house. Mitch had insisted he would take care of everything for your three year anniversary, you hadn’t ever thought you’d be scared of leaving the house but here you were nervous that Mitch was going to drag you to some fancy restaurant.

“Okay just close your eyes.” He grins a little as you close them and places a kiss on your forehead.

”Okay spin three times.”

“Will I wake up in Oz?” You laugh and can feel him smiling into your hair.

“Somewhere better.”

“Anywhere with you is better.” You grin a little when he walks forward guiding you, one hand wrapped around your waist.

“Okay open.” You’re already smiling, but you hide your head a little when you realize just what Mitch has done, he’s set up a recreation of the anniversary date he always takes you on. Normally you’d be going out to the restaurant where you first met and ordering the same meal you’d first gotten.

“Listen Y/N; this might not be the place I expected to be on our three year anniversary, but it’s with you, so that’s really all that matters.”

“Me getting taken must’ve shook you up, huh.” You try not to let your voice shake and Mitch just nods.

“Yeah it did, really freaked me out.” He sighs pulling you back into his chest and pressing his forehead against yours.

Support My Writing?

[fitzells]

“I fell in love with you.” “No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor.”

For Stiles? <3

drunken confessions, stiles stilinski.

notes: stiles won’t be in the movie because we’re too busy raising our three children, two dogs and one cat in the suburbs! also im not happy with this i haven’t been writing that good recently

inbox is very full so im replying to random reqs that inspire me!!

word count: 1.8k!!!! longer than i intended but oh well.

warnings: hints of smut towards the end but other than that i think we’re good!

A drunken giggle fell past lipstick stained lips as you stumbled into your dorm room; Stiles following close behind, strong hands holding onto the small of your waist to guide you into the room. “I’m serious, Stilinski! You’re a real catch.”

“Uh huh.” He let out a grunt, wincing as you flopped your body down onto your bed, curling into the sheets with a whimsical grin. “How’d you figure that one out?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, lifting your feet onto his lap so that he could undo the straps of your heels. You pouted, reaching up to grab his face with both of your hands, staring at him with lovesick eyes. He almost melted into your embrace on the spot, not being able to handle the pure adoration you were shooting his way. You were the girl he’d been in love with since he was 6 years old, he’d been planning your wedding in his brain since the first time you’d ever even waved at him. Here he was, a couple of inches away from your face, watching your eyes light up and your mouth stretch into one of the prettiest grins he’d ever seen you give.

He wished he could take a picture of this moment, partly to show all those assholes in high school that made fun of him any time you looked his way; but also, for himself; because he knew how you got when you were drunk, you were overly affectionate, to everyone. In a moment, he’d reluctantly drag your hands away from his face and you’d pass out on your bed in a full face of makeup and an uncomfortable dress. So, he wanted to soak it in, because he’d probably never get to be this close to you again.

“I mean,” you paused for a moment, a quiet hiccup sounding through the room before you took up speaking again. “You’re super sweet, when you’re not being a paranoid asshole with major trust issues— sorry, that was mean. You’re funny, and smart and you do this cute little thing with your nose when you’re concentrating that makes me want to slam my head in a door, in a good way; obviously.”

He allowed his eyebrows to raise, a flabbergasted hum leaving his rosy lips at your words. He only shook his head, believing that it was just the alcohol talking; because, there’s no way you could ever want to date him, right?

“And you’re super hot, but I mean. . . that goes without saying.” Your hands were still cupping his face, squeezing it every now and again, making his cheeks smush together and causing little giggles to exit your mouth. You cackled at the look of confusion he’d sent you, an annoyed eye roll being shot his way. “Oh, c’mon; Stilinski. You’re not blind, you’re an attractive guy! You got that hair, and those eyes; and that cute ass of yours.”

He emitted a loud yelp when you’d nudged your heel into his ass, as if to emphasise your point. A look of pure shock painted his face, and your laughs only increased in ferocity; leading to him joining you in your drunken giggles. “You know you’re hot.”

He let out another little hum, watching as your eyes drifted away from his, mind wandering to somewhere else. “And you’re always there for me when I need you. Like when I was dragged into all this supernatural bullshit because my best friend is a frickin’ banshee. You always looked out for me—“

He smiled softly, dark eyes meeting your hazy ones. “I’ll always have your back, you know that.”

“—and then I was finally realising how I felt, and you got possessed, which was terrifying. And then, we got you back, but we lost Alli, and I wasn’t ready to let anyone else get close to me. Then the whole dead pool thing didn't really give us much extra time for a declaration of my undying love. Then senior year was just-- I mean, Theo and everything else. . . and then you got erased from existence. Isn’t high school meant to be the best years of our lives?”

He was bewildered at your ramblings, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly eyes wide and eyebrows raised. No, you were just drunk; you didn’t even know what you were saying. He should just ignore it, get you to go to sleep and forget this ever happened. “God, I hope not.”

You let out a soft sigh, your thumbs running against his cheekbones gently. “Now we’re in college together; and you’re my best friend. I messed all this up, should’ve just kissed you at prom like I wanted to.”

“You wanted to kiss me at prom?”

You let out another giggle. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the end of sophomore year. Your little buzzcut was so cute, you were like a pale, flannel wearing teddy bear.”

“Right.” He sighed, your level of intoxication becoming clear again as he gently pulled your hands from his face. “Lets get you into bed, okay?”

He turned his back to find some of that makeup removed he’d seen you use. Was it a pink bottle? Or a blue one? Actually he was pretty sure it was gree—

“I fell in love with you.” You muttered from behind him. He scolded himself when he felt his heart flutter and his thoughts flitter from his head at your words. You didn’t feel like this, not really, it was simply the copious amount of alcohol in your system talking.

“No,” he replied, once he’d found the face wash hidden in your bedside table. “You fell down the stairs. You really should learn how to hold your liquor.”

He tapped at the fresh cut just below your knee, from when you’d missed a step halfway up the stairs to your dorm only a half an hour ago, and you’d tumbled down them, landing in a laughing heap on the ground. Your eyebrows knitted together, leaning over to inspect the cut. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that— Hey! Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.”

“I mean it; this isn't the alcohol talking. Maybe, I have some liquid courage but that’s it. I’ve felt like this since I was fifteen years old, Stiles. I’m in love with you.”

He paused for a moment, face wash coated cotton pad held in mid air as he observed your expression, it was desperate, and frustrated; but also fuelled with the utmost love and appreciation.

“I love you.” You repeated, voice softer this time.

He hesitated, wanting to utter the words back to you desperately, for a moment, your were sure he was going to, your eyes twinkling with hope as you stared up at him.

“I should take your makeup off.”

Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, your hand coming up to cradle your forehead as you winced at the sunlight gleaming through the window. You kicked the body beside you, hard, prompting him to curse before turning off whatever video he was watching on his phone. “Morning sunshine, how do you feel?”

You turned to face him, eyes narrow and mouth dry. “Fantastic.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, but it was clear that something else had been weighing on his mind. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft gaze being cast over you. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“You mean, do I remember getting sick all over the side walk and then falling down a slight of stairs once you’d managed to get me into the building? Yes, trust me; I remember it all.”

You couldn’t ignore the look of disappointment on his face at your words as you clambered out of bed, walking to the bathroom; turning on the shower to let the water heat up, before applying toothpaste to your toothbrush and walking back out into your room. You scrubbed at your teeth as you walked around the room, picking up your clothes from last night and tossing them in the laundry basket, only now noticing you were wearing one of Stiles’ t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. You looked over at him, trying to word your next words carefully. Your toothbrush hung out of your mouth, foamy lips opening as you walked into the bathroom to spit.

“I also remember declaring my undying love for you in a way that was exactly like that one scene in ‘definitely, maybe’ where Ryan Reynolds declares his undying love for Isla Fisher? Except, maybe it was a little less angsty than theirs— but anyway, that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that I love you. And not to sound too egotistical, but I’m pretty sure you might love me too.” You were back in your dorm at this point, standing right in front of your bed, where he was staring at you with wide eyes.

“You really do love me? Like actually?”

You nodded, a smile being hidden as you bit down on your lip. “Do you love me too?”

He rolled his eyes fondly, quickly fumbling out of bed in his usual clumsy manner and cupping your face in his hands. “Are you kidding me? You're talking to the guy who's been mapping out our perfect suburban life with three kids and a golden retriever since I was six years old. Of course I love you.”

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you close to him, a quiet hum of approval leaving his mouth. It perfectly showcased all the love and affection you’d both been hiding for years, your hands knotting in his hair before you pulled away reluctantly.

“I have to go shower.” You whispered against his lips.

He nodded, a big dopey grin on his face. “I have to go call Scott, and my dad— and everyone from high school. I got the fucking girl.”

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet, Stilinski.” You tutted falsely, standing in the doorway between your room and your bathroom.

“I think you’ve been my girlfriend for a long time, baby. I just think that we’re only catching on now.” He muttered. “But, nonetheless; my dad raised me right, so; will you be my girlfriend Ms. Y/L/N?”

“It’d be my honour, Mr. Stilinski.” You grinned. “Now, go call whoever you need to call. I’ll be in the shower if you want me.”

He paused, throwing his phone down on the bed as you pulled your shirt over your head; and he swallowed thickly. “You know what? I think my gloating can wait a couple hours.”

“A couple hours? You think you got that kind of stamina, Stilinski?” You teased, pulling your shorts down your legs and stepping into the shower.

“Guess we better find out.”