Dylan O'brien Imagines - Blog Posts

Slow Morning

Word count: 339

As Dylan slowly and comfortably begins to wake up from one of the best rests he's had in a while, he pulls his girlfriend closer, pressing her back to his chest. He hums contently and mumbles softly against her hair, "Morning, sleepyhead."

When he doesn't feel any movement in response from her, he lifts his head and looks at her peacefully sleeping face, bringing a smile to his lips. Evidently, she's still recovering from the previous night of fun they had after not seeing each other for a week, which felt like forever to them. He moves her hair away from her neck and presses lazy kisses against her skin.

"Wake up, sleepyhead... I need my morning affection," Dylan whispers as his pecks to her face and neck continue, causing her to softly groan and recoil, curling up into a ball underneath the covers. He chuckles, noticing her desperation to keep sleeping. "Hey, come back up here," he says, while wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her back into the cuddle.

She sighs softly, letting her body relax again, until she feels a gentle bite to her neck. In a groggy and somewhat whiney tone, she protests, "Dylan..."

He chuckles again and uses an innocent tone, "Hey, I was being gentle. Just relax and let me wake you up."

"I don't want to wake up though..." Her words slur a bit due to her present sleepiness.

His hold on her gets a little tighter, "But think about all the benefits of waking up, like eating breakfast, and kissing your boyfriend, and listening to LA traffic, and kissing your boyfriend, and... and kissing your boyfriend..." He laughs lightly and buries his face into the crook of her neck.

A small smile appears on her face, yet she keeps her eyes closed. Her tone becomes more content and even a little cheerful, "Ok... But give me like, ten minutes."

Dylan laughs again and nuzzles into her neck more. "Ok. Ten minutes. But after that, I need your cooperation."

"Deal."

I don't know when I'll have time to write again, which I apologize for - it makes me sad too. However, when I do get around to it, what would everyone like to see first?

(The Wampus Cat AU has a reader x Stiles childhood friends to lovers trope :))

I don't have time to write an entire drabble or whatever, but please, in honor of Christmas Eve, just think for a moment about Stiles frantically wrapping presents and making an absolute mess.

Imagine it's late, almost midnight, and he completely forgot to wrap the gifts he bought. He's huffing and puffing, shoving the paper over the boxes and other strangely shaped items, and smashing a ridiculous amount of tape on every corner and crevice. It's a shit show, but he needs to get it done.

In the middle of this chaos, his girlfriend calls him to wish him a good night and whatnot, and she can hear his rushed frustration and trouble with making his two lanky hands work the way he wants them to. She asks him if he's ok and what the hell is he doing?

He brushes her off and simply tells her that he forgot to do something important, yet again. She easily guesses the task at hand, thanks to all the noise he's making, and offers to come over and help him.

He quickly shuts her down in a slight panic, telling her that she absolutely cannot come over. She then pesters him about why he's so against the prospect, and eventually he caves: most of the presents are for her.

Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates and happy holidays to all! I hope everyone has a lovely day and good luck to those who are struggling! 💜

I don't have time to write an entire drabble or whatever, but please, in honor of Christmas Eve, just think for a moment about Stiles frantically wrapping presents and making an absolute mess.

Imagine it's late, almost midnight, and he completely forgot to wrap the gifts he bought. He's huffing and puffing, shoving the paper over the boxes and other strangely shaped items, and smashing a ridiculous amount of tape on every corner and crevice. It's a shit show, but he needs to get it done.

In the middle of this chaos, his girlfriend calls him to wish him a good night and whatnot, and she can hear his rushed frustration and trouble with making his two lanky hands work the way he wants them to. She asks him if he's ok and what the hell is he doing?

He brushes her off and simply tells her that he forgot to do something important, yet again. She easily guesses the task at hand, thanks to all the noise he's making, and offers to come over and help him.

He quickly shuts her down in a slight panic, telling her that she absolutely cannot come over. She then pesters him about why he's so against the prospect, and eventually he caves: most of the presents are for her.

Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates and happy holidays to all! I hope everyone has a lovely day and good luck to those who are struggling! 💜

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.  

Hii 🥺

Could you write a Dylan O'brien fanfic about meeting his friends for the first time?

Thank you in advance ❤️

I LOOOOVE YOUR WORK! 🥰

Aw, thank you so much! I'm so, so sorry that it has taken me this long to post this. You are so sweet and deserve better smh. Anyway, I genuinely can't tell if this is shit or not, so hopefully it's not a disappointment after all this time...

Ten Minutes

Word count: 895

Dylan's girlfriend was peacefully perched on his couch, wasting the day away while he was off in the shower, trying to make himself presentable. Of course, she had no idea that was his goal, or why he abandoned their position on the cushions.

Minutes later, he returned, wearing fresh clothes as the strands of his hair still flopped soggily. He smiled as he approached her again, standing above her.

She looked up at him and tilted her head. "You're wearing real clothes?"

His head tilted to match hers. "'Real clothes?' What do you mean?"

"Yeah, like," she started, glancing down at her loose t-shirt and sweatpants, "clothes that you would face the public in."

Dylan couldn't help but laugh as he spoke, "What? I just want to look somewhat decent when they come over. Is that a crime?" He watched as the color drained from his girlfriend's face and her eyes widened.

"Wait, what?" she stammered. "Who's coming over?"

"Some of my buddies from the Maze Runner cast, remember?"

She shook her head and immediately sat up straight. "No... No, I don't remember, because you never told me anything about that."

"I'm pretty sure, I did," he said, his eyebrows furrowing.

"No, you did not, Dylan! When are the fuck are they coming over?"

He dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time. "About... Ten minutes or so?"

She sprung out of her seat on the couch and scrambled over to his bedroom to clean herself up as fast as possible, crying out, "Dylan, you bitch! This is my first time meeting your friends, who are famous by the way, and you didn't even give me a heads up!? I have ten minutes! I get ten minutes to turn myself into a pleasant representation of Dylan O'Brien's girlfriend!? Are you kidding me!? I'm going to look like a crazy person! They're going to think I'm a disgusting slob and shun me!"

He bit his lip from the living room, trying not to laugh at her frantic distress. "I'm sure you'll look as beautiful as you always do!" he called back.

"You're just saying that because I fucked you this morning!"

Although her words were spiteful, he had to quickly cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his burst of laughter. Obviously, he felt guilty for forgetting something that mattered so much to his girlfriend, but her reaction was priceless. And he knew appearances meant something, but watching her move so speedily was probably one of the most amazing spectacles he'd ever witnessed.

As she viciously brushed her teeth, she could hear the faint voices of the arrivals. By some miracle, she was (more or less) ready to be seen and introduced. She anxiously made her way back into the living room and put on her most welcoming smile.

There they were: Thomas Brodie-Sangster, Ki Hong Lee, Kaya Scodelario, and Will Poulter, standing in the living room. She couldn't believe it. Their faces were so real, but the moment didn't feel like anything close to reality. How in the world was she going to pull this off?

She took a deep breath and stepped to Dylan's side. He glanced down at her and gave her a gentle, reassuring smile - exactly what she needed. However, she could still feel her face heating up and her hands getting clammy, as if right on cue.

Her boyfriend was clearly quite comfortable with his crew and had no problem introducing her, and unfortunately, teasing her. She may have stumbled over her words here and there and hoped with her entire being that no one noticed those clammy hands mentioned as she shook each of theirs. But all things considered, the greeting went smoothly. Dylan, being the loving man that he is, made sure she felt grounded with soft touches on her back or arm, and he guided the conversation to ease her mind of that responsibility.

As they sat down on the couch, sharing stories and drinks, she realized that there hadn't been a single awkward moment yet. She smiled on the inside, proud of herself for making do with the ten minutes Dylan gave her, and even more in love with him after seeing the way he raved about her in front of his visitors.

When the door closed and the room was left to the two of them again, finalizing their departure, she let out a deep breath, mumbling, "I guess that wasn't so bad..."

Dylan caught it and smirked. "See, you had nothing to worry about. Ten minutes is plenty of time."

"'Plenty' is an exaggeration, but yeah, I guess I made it work."

His smile only grew as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "They loved you, you know," he said, his voice lowering.

Her cheeks tingled as they changed shades, and she rested her arms around his neck. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he nodded, brushing his nose against hers.

The girl's eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the feeling of his wandering hands. They glided up her back after sneaking under her shirt. Clearly, he knew what he was doing and the effect he had on her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what?"

"For making everything work out."

His smirk returned and he began pulling her in the direction of his bedroom. "Oh, I'm not done yet."

Lost in the Dark

Word count: 798

"Stiles, where the hell are we going?"

Stiles' focus remained on the road as his girlfriend of just a few months (and best friend since preschool), sat in the passenger seat of his Jeep with growing anxiety. His narrowed eyes didn't leave the dark road as he tried to answer casually, "Don't worry about it."

She looked at him gobsmacked and her voice slightly raised with panic, "How on Earth am I supposed to not worry? We've lived in Beacon Hills all our lives, and I have never seen this road. Ever."

Stiles, trying not to panic just as much as she was, did his best to scan the area as he drove. "Psh, we've been here plenty of times. Remember a couple of years ago, when we, uh... we, you know... uh..." Sighing in defeat, he caved, "Ok, fine. I have no idea where we are."

Hearing him admit the truth made the reality of the situation sink in quickly, making her exclaim with worry and annoyance, "Stiles! You promised me a relaxing, late night drive, not a trip to the middle of nowhere!"

He rubbed his forehead regretfully, trying to remember what mistake he made that led them to this road in the first place. "I know, I know, but maybe it isn't so bad. Just look at all the... thousands of trees surrounding us that all look the same..." He glanced over at her and caught a glimpse of the intense glare she had, pointed right at him, causing him to marginally wince.

"If I don't make it home safe and alive, you can bet your ass that my father will hunt you down, whether you're still alive or not." Stiles simply nodded as she spoke, avoiding the thought of her dad and his menacing scowl.

As Stiles continued driving down the unfamiliar roads and paths, and making 'educated' guesses on how to get back home, his girlfriend shifted nervously in her seat. At one point, Stiles slowed down and squinted his eyes into the inky woods, towards the passenger side, and spoke ponderously, "Oh, look. Maybe we can ask that guy for directions."

With a spark of hope present in her, she turned her attention to where he was looking. However, that spark was quickly put out and replaced with frustration and fear as she exclaimed, yet again, "Stiles, that's a fucking mountain lion!" Stiles' eyes widened and he quickly drove off and further down the road. She ranted on about how much of an idiot he was and how much she no longer trusted him to escort her anywhere.

He interjected defensively, "It's pitch black out here, how am I supposed to distinguish a man from a mountain lion in these conditions!?"

She didn't hesitate to snap back, just as snarkily, "Well, maybe if you hadn't gotten us lost in the first place, you wouldn't have to worry about that!"

"Oh, excuse me for not having a GPS built into my brain!" Stiles looked at her, bugged by her matched fieriness.

"It's a real shame you don't, we should definitely look into that!" The tension between the two seemed to be reaching its peak until both of their attention was drawn to the vehicle as it slowed down. Her tone turned into one of confusion, "Stiles, what are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," Stiles frantically looked for the source of the problem as he spoke, still holding onto the steering wheel. He, too, was very confused by the turn of events, until the realization hit him. He hesitated to speak, knowing that the information he was about to reveal would only make him seem like even more of an idiot.

Nevertheless, his girlfriend knew him better than she knew herself, and she could easily read that adorable face of his. And so, she spoke warningly, "Stiles... Just say it."

He sighed, trying to build up the courage, and leaned his head back against the headrest. He looked over at her apologetically, and his voice softened with a hint of nervousness, "We're out of gas..."

She stared at him blankly, slowly digesting his words. After a moment, and after Stiles was about to freak out from the way she was looking at him, she just burst into laughter and bowed her head from the intensity of it. He was completely unprepared for that reaction and looked at her with concern.

"Wha-... What? Why are you laughing? You are laughing, right? What's happening?" he spoke cautiously, yet worriedly.

She lifted her head, still very amused, and barely got the words out between her inapt giggles, "We're so fucked."

And so, Stiles couldn't help but laugh along with her, choosing to enjoy his girlfriend's presence and her sweet laugh, despite the predicament they were in.

Slow Morning

Word count: 339

As Dylan slowly and comfortably begins to wake up from one of the best rests he's had in a while, he pulls his girlfriend closer, pressing her back to his chest. He hums contently and mumbles softly against her hair, "Morning, sleepyhead."

When he doesn't feel any movement in response from her, he lifts his head and looks at her peacefully sleeping face, bringing a smile to his lips. Evidently, she's still recovering from the previous night of fun they had after not seeing each other for a week, which felt like forever to them. He moves her hair away from her neck and presses lazy kisses against her skin.

"Wake up, sleepyhead... I need my morning affection," Dylan whispers as his pecks to her face and neck continue, causing her to softly groan and recoil, curling up into a ball underneath the covers. He chuckles, noticing her desperation to keep sleeping. "Hey, come back up here," he says, while wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her back into the cuddle.

She sighs softly, letting her body relax again, until she feels a gentle bite to her neck. In a groggy and somewhat whiney tone, she protests, "Dylan..."

He chuckles again and uses an innocent tone, "Hey, I was being gentle. Just relax and let me wake you up."

"I don't want to wake up though..." Her words slur a bit due to her present sleepiness.

His hold on her gets a little tighter, "But think about all the benefits of waking up, like eating breakfast, and kissing your boyfriend, and listening to LA traffic, and kissing your boyfriend, and... and kissing your boyfriend..." He laughs lightly and buries his face into the crook of her neck.

A small smile appears on her face, yet she keeps her eyes closed. Her tone becomes more content and even a little cheerful, "Ok... But give me like, ten minutes."

Dylan laughs again and nuzzles into her neck more. "Ok. Ten minutes. But after that, I need your cooperation."

"Deal."