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Dylan O Brien - Blog Posts
Maybe like a cuddle fluff where he’s laying on top of you and playing with your curls?
Wow, it's been a long time since I got this. I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait. I have no excuse other than falling into the rabbit hole of Sebastian Stan... So, yeah, I had no inspiration for anything else. Again, I'm so sorry. I hope this turned out ok...
P.S. This can apply to natural curls or heat curls, whichever works for whoever is reading :)
P.P.S. I just realized that I misread the request. Shit.
The Recoil
Word count: 573
He was mesmerized, to say the least. He always had been. He'd stare at the back of her head as she walked in front of him, watching her luscious curls bounce with every step. He'd constantly be dying to touch them, and he'd try until his fingers were clutched to himself closely, rubbing the ache away after having them get whacked a few too many times. Apparently, some people don't like having their hair meddled with.
Thankfully, that's not the case for his girlfriend anymore. Now that they're happily dating, he gets to touch whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's made that very clear. She no longer minds Stiles' insistence because she is officially sure that it's out of affection, not annoyance.
The two snuggle up during any free time they can spare, and for as long as they can get away with, in countless positions and arrangements. They take turns spoiling the other with caresses, paying extra close attention to the other's hair and scalp (Stiles' favorites). There's a certain smirk that appears on his face when it's his turn to get his hands on the precious silk of hers.
Stiles lays on his back with his girlfriend's head placed gently on his chest, and their legs tangled. He brushes all the hair back and over her shoulders, away from her face. His eyes are focused but keep a delicate gaze. One by one, he lightly pulls on each spiral with his calloused fingertips until it extends to its full length, then lets go, watching it constrict again. His smile grows slowly in adoration, not noticing the confusion that grows on her face.
"Stiles...?" she asks softly.
"Hm?" He barely glances up to her face before he continues his attention on her hair, only halfway through her mane.
"What are you doing?"
"Just, you know. Enjoying the recoil."
She tilts her head back to look up at him. "The what?"
"Hey! You moved," he says, scowling.
"Yeah, thanks for noticing," she retorts. "What are you doing?"
His defensive words get a bit jumbled up and a heat spreads across his cheeks. "I'm just, you know. Right? The recoil. The hair, your hair, and the curliness, and the... you know? The recoil."
She can't hide the big, loving smile on her face as she keeps looking up at his.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he says, staring right back at her.
"You're very cute, Stiles."
"No." He practically glares at her. "No, I'm not. Absolutely not. Just, just put your head back the way it was and stop worrying about it, ok? Relax."
Stiles' girlfriend chuckles softly and does as he says, resting her eyes again and enjoying the gentle pull of his fingers. There's no point in teasing more than he can take.
Meanwhile, he can't contain the red heat which is traveling down his neck. Stiles doesn't understand and never will understand how she can make him react like this. Usually, he's easily able to keep a cold, sarcastic front, but not with her. Not with that smile. Not with those eyes. Not with her dreamy curls. And certainly not with her laying against him.
In the end, he's still smiling fondly, noticing her thumb that slipped underneath his shirt to brush across his waist. It's the little things that get to him most and drive him absolutely crazy for the love of his life.
Hi,
First of all, I love your work! 😍
Aaaand can I ask for some (over)protective/ jealous Stiles, preferably at a party...maybe he sees someone flirting with y/n...or at school maybe and he gets touchy 🥺❤️
Thank you ❤️❤️❤️
Hey! I apologize for taking so long to answer, but life has been absolutely wild lately. But, thank you very much for the request and the love! I twisted it a little bit, making his paranoia the cause of his jealousy instead of someone else... I hope that's ok and I hope you like it! :)
Fiasco
Word count: 1,052
Saying that Stiles wasn't thrilled to be at some random freshman lacrosse kid's party on a Friday night instead of being snuggled up on the couch with his girlfriend and ignoring a lame movie to make out was an understatement. He didn't even know what the kid's name was and he didn't care. The pipsqueak barely made the team anyway, it was doubtful that he was any better than Stiles (which was kind of an ego boost). But alas, there he was, walking into an unfamiliar house behind his group of friends, tightly clutching his girlfriend's hand in hopes of relieving his grumpy mood.
Unfortunately for him, this method failed as his anchor was swept away to the kitchen with Malia and Kira. He sighed defeatedly as he plopped himself down on the couch next to some imbecile who was wearing a scarf, and no, surprisingly, it wasn't Isaac.
All he wanted to do was go home and lock himself in a room with the love of his life. She always made everything feel better because she always knew what to do to make that happen. It's like she had his brain in the palm of her hand, all to herself to read and understand completely and thoroughly - she knew him better than anyone, including himself. So yes, he wished that she could magically heal his grouchiness and clear his mind of all the shit that was going on in his life, preferably immediately.
However, when his scowling gaze met her figure in the living room again and he saw the look of enjoyment on her face, disbelief struck him. He wondered how in hell she could be having fun right now, with these losers, wannabes, and tryhards, thus dragging his mood to deeper depths of negativity.
He watched every movement she made: step, shift, glance, smile, laugh, sway, sip, turn, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... But then his focus shifted to the people around his girlfriend. He narrowed his eyes as he observed drifting eyes, brushing hands, and hungry smirks.
His emotions swirled and bubbled inside him until they became a jealous and protective boil - one he could not contain.
Stiles stood up suddenly, charging towards his other half with a look of rage. He harshly grabbed the forearm of one of his adversaries and glowered at the boy as he scolded, "If you put your disgusting, perverted hand on her, I swear to God, I will chop your fucking hand off and shove it up your fucking-"
"Stiles!"
Like a bright ray of sunshine breaking through a wall of charcoal storm clouds, her voice broke through his haze of fury, retrieving his sanity. He looked at her and her disbelief, then blinked a few times and glanced around. That's when he realized he realized whose arm he was gripping: it was Ethan's, who looked like he was about to laugh in Stiles' face. He released Ethan and then saw Scott, Kira, Malia, Danny, Boyd, and Isaac, all staring right back at him.
Stiles' cheeks quickly darkened to a crimson and his whole body heated up, feeling incredibly stupid for losing his mind like that. He silently cursed himself, trying to wrap his head around what just happened.
His girlfriend, being the amazing woman she was, acted quickly when she saw Stiles' return to reality and the shame on his face. She took his hand and hastily led him outside, weaving through all the teenagers to reach the front door.
"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked worriedly, facing him on the driveway.
He stuttered, unable to ignore the lingering feeling of jealousy roaming through him, "I, well, I... I don't know, I just..." He let out a breath and looked down in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, looking up at her again after a short moment. "I don't want to be here. I want to be in my house with you, alone and away from everyone and everything."
"So, you flipped out instead of asking me to go home with you...?" she spoke, confused.
Stiles bit his lip, hesitating, before he continued, "No, I flipped out because I was jealous."
She smiled and raised her eyebrows with amusement. "You were jealous of Ethan? The guy who is dating Danny, another guy? The Ethan who is very gay and very uninterested in girls?"
"No!" he said, glaring at her, "I was jealous of how much fun you were having and how happy you looked..."
His girlfriend's smile softened and turned sympathetic.
"Well, and," he continued, "all the touching, and the looks, and the creepy smirks, and the rubbing, and the staring. I didn't like that either."
"What are you talking about?" She was suddenly filled with confusion again. "There was no touching, or rubbing, or creepiness, or staring."
Stiles' eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the earlier events in his head. He wasn't hallucinating, he knew what he saw. Or did he...?
"Stiles, seriously, what is going on with you? These are our friends. There's nothing to be jealous of," she said, getting his attention again.
"But I thought... Oh my God, I'm a mess." He ran his hands over his face. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but every little thing just pissed me off more and more, and then my grumpy mood turned into a wild rage, and then a whole fiasco. I'm a fiasco."
She softly smiled at him and cupped his face with her hands. "You are not a fiasco. But if you were in a bad mood, why didn't you just say so? We could've just stayed home and watched some lame movie instead."
Stiles' heart just about melted. He looked at her with all the love he had for her before pulling her closer by her hips and pressing his lips to hers.
"I'm sorry for imagining things and getting jealous. I'll definitely let you know about my bad mood before we go to another party," he said quietly, then gave her another peck.
"Thank you," her smile grew as she looked up at him, "but just so you know, I still love your imagination, even if it makes you do some questionable things."
He chuckled awkwardly as he spoke, "Yeah, I should probably go apologize to Ethan too..."
"Yep!"
hii! this is my first time requesting, buuut could possibly you write something with stiles and a popular reader? maybe they’re paired together on a project and realize they have a lot in common? maybe a sort of an enemies to lovers type thing 🙏
No worries! I actually love this idea, thank you! I just got kind of busy and couldn't put much time into this, but I tried my best so hopefully you enjoy it :)
Alright folks, here we go...
Project
Word count: 1,241
(Stiles' POV)
You know those incredibly rare days when you wake up and don't immediately hate everything? When you have a sliver of hope for something good to happen? Yeah, those lovely, delicate, beautiful days, I know you know what I'm talking about.
So my point is, I had (or thought I had) one of those days when my alarm went off one morning, but evidently, I was wrong. And not just a whoops-a-daisy type of wrong. No. I'm talking about the utterly horrific, catastrophically disastrous type. I realized this when I heard who my math teacher paired me with for the graph poster project.
Hearing her name made me immediately roll my eyes and I had to force myself not to audibly groan in agony. I glanced over at her from across the room and saw the same look of distaste on her face that I had on mine. 'Great,' I thought, probably still glaring at her.
Usually, I don't mind popular girls because they're so far out of my league and don't give me the time of day to even reject me in the first place. However, when it comes down to this girl - no. That is way too kind. This evil, mocking, slimy, sinister, know-it-all wench was too intolerable for me to cope with that day. Despite the fact that I've never actually had a conversation with her or even said a word to her, I always had a bad feeling about her. I just didn't trust someone who was so clearly sucking up to her teachers to get away with stuff. Ok, fine, I didn't know if that was exactly true. But how did no one else hate her? How did she even get that popular in the first place? It didn't add up and I didn't like it.
Once the bitch who destroyed my hopes and dreams for the day finally finished blabbing about the damned project, I waited for my infuriatingly slow partner to come sit down at my table so we could start. For some odd reason, when I looked over at her, she was still sitting in her seat, apparently waiting for me to go over to her. She tried waving her hand in her direction to draw me in, but I held my ground, scoffing at her sad attempt. Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly got up and sat down next to me, clearly having an attitude. And then we just sat there for a moment, festering in uncomfortable annoyance until she eventually looked at me.
"Are you going to start the project, or not?" she said bluntly, which caught me off guard.
"Um, excuse me? Am I? Me? Are you serious right now? Do you know what the definition of a partner is? Because I highly doubt that tiny brain of yours does if you think I'm doing this shit by myself," I hissed back.
"Wow, you are just as dramatic as I thought. Obviously, I'm not that dumb, I was just trying to piss you off enough to actually speak instead of just scowling in your seat."
I stared at her in disbelief, incapable of understanding the audacity that girl just had. However, begrudgingly, we started the project.
"You're doing that wrong by the way," she spoke casually. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared intensely at the equation I was solving.
"Uh... No, I'm not."
For some reason, she started getting frustrated with me, even though she was delusional for thinking I was doing absolutely anything incorrectly, saying, "Um, yes you literally are. Have you not been paying attention this entire unit?"
I looked at her with incredulity as I spoke unconfidently, "I... Well... More than you have, for sure. You're always busy chatting with your little minions. Besides, I don't even need to pay attention. Math isn't that hard for people with more than three brain cells."
"Then how come you're doing it wrong?" She looked at me with amusement and it almost made me nauseous.
Then, I snapped at her - probably more aggressively than I should have - but she earned that reaction when she intentionally pissed me off. And so, our spiteful jabs continued as we worked on the project.
By the time we finished, things started getting quiet between us. She pulled out a small book from her backpack and began reading to fill the extra time left in class. I tilted my head as I read the title: "The Fellowship of the Ring." I couldn't help but smirk to myself, but unfortunately, she noticed.
"What?" she said, her eyebrows furrowing.
My eyes quickly lifted to hers as I spoke, trying to sound innocent, "I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, but your face did."
My lips parted, suddenly feeling like I had switched roles and was talking to a version of myself. I've said those exact words about a hundred times - what parallel universe did I just teleport to?
Suddenly, her pencil hit my face, snapping me out of my apparent staring, and she continued, "Is there a reason why you're looking at me like that, or are you just a creep?"
"I, yeah, um... No. Wait, what?" I stuttered, making a fool of myself.
"Are you on drugs or something?"
"Um, no, definitely not."
"Ok, then what the hell is wrong with you?"
I quickly rubbed my face, trying to get a grip. Truth be told, I had no freaking idea what was wrong with me. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. For the first time since I was in the womb, my mind was empty.
Finally, after looking like an idiot for way too long, I cleared my throat and tried again in a nervous tone, "Do-... Do you like the movies?"
"Huh?" She looked at me like I was crazy.
"The movies. The Lord of the Rings movies. You like them, or...?"
"Oh, um, yeah. I've been wanting to read the books for a while but kept forgetting to renew my library card." Her expression seemed to soften quickly, which made me smile slightly for a reason I didn't understand at the time.
"Yeah? It's been a while since I've seen them, but they were some of my favorites as a kid, after Star Wars, of course."
It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that only a month later, we were cuddled up under a blanket on her couch, binge-watching The Lord of the Rings movies to celebrate her completion of the books. I looked down at her, enjoying her company more than whatever Frodo was complaining about, and just smiled.
I never thought that I would have a conversation with the most well-known girl at Beacon Hills High School, let alone hold her hand around the halls, hug her before class, or kiss her before dropping her off at her house after a date. But, apparently, all those corny quotes that English teachers love are, in fact, true: you really can't judge a book by its cover, and you also can't fold the corner of a book page (your girlfriend will smack you in the face). Oh, and also, your hope getting snatched away by your math teacher doesn't mean that nothing good will come out of the experience that you get from it. Who knows, maybe you'll end up falling in love with and losing your virginity to the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect girl in existence, just like me.
PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU - REQUEST SOMETHING.
My problem is that I don't have any ideas, but I want to write and I feel bad that I haven't written anything in such a long time.
I don't know if I'll do straight-up smut, but I will gladly hint at it in a bunch of fluff.
I feel like I know Stiles' character the best, but I can try some of the others of Dylan O'Brien's if I've seen the show/movie before. Also, I'm totally up for dabbling in some Bucky Barnes stuff if anyone would like that too...
***I will most likely only do x female reader imagines (without y/n, pet names, or an original character to keep as many people happy as possible).
Yes, this is a cry for help: help me help you.
Thank you, thank you.
